


Just Another Day

by DarlingLemon



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead: Survival Instinct (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingLemon/pseuds/DarlingLemon
Summary: Redemption. Its a concept Daryl Dixon is completely unfamiliar with- but desperately needs. It lives in his dreams, where he's a hero among men in the zombie apocalypse... but that's not real life. Real life is sorrow, loneliness, and pain. Until he meets his beautiful neighbor- then its possibility, hope, and maybe a bullet to the brain.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
January

He sniffed in and spat on the ground, leaving precious little moisture in his mouth, but the gesture felt good all the same. He shuffled from the garage that he worked at to the shitty trailer behind it. He hardly paid attention to the exterior anymore; tall brown grass and sun bleached wooden steps leading to a rusted metal door. The owner of the garage rented it to him for more than it was worth- but it was still cheaper and easier than an apartment.

He hurt. With age, with tired, with the subtle and large humiliations of a life half lived. Straight away he walked to the fridge and opened a cold beer, downing it quickly. He crushed the can, then hurled it across the room; the small act of defiance working little against his feelings of impotence and despair. Merle had abandoned him here 'Just for a spell' after a drug heist he had done went poorly and he had ended up with a warrant. Daryl brought him up supplies to his hideout in the woods, but the day to day grind of loneliness had begun to ware on him.

There had been two women in the shop today, probably too young for him, getting an oil change on an old Ford. They hung out, drinking soda after soda out of the vending machine; talking and texting on their phones until he was done. He was gruff as always. Never gave a hint that he was smitten with their gentile laughter, tan legs, and easy manner. It was when they thought he was out of earshot that he heard them talking about him. Teasing each other to 'blow the gross old redneck for a discount'. It hurt. In ways he didn't know how to articulate, and never would have, even if he had the chance. Not that that was even an option. His closest friend was his brother, and god help those girls if Merle ever got a hold of them... he let go of the thought. He opened another beer, kicked off his boots, then hit play on the shitty old tape deck that he kept on the kitchen counter. One of his small guilty pleasures came on -The Allman Brothers. He smiled a little and scratched the patch of white on his chin as 'Midnight Rider' started to play.

After a couple of deep pulls off of the cheap beer, he began shuffling off the old blue coveralls. His joints cracked, and his back was threatening to go out on him. He pulled his smokes out of the pocket of the rumpled blue fabric on the floor. Four left. He might actually have to leave again tonight. He pulled one out, turned on the electric stove, and lit his Camel on the orange curl. He took a long, deep breath of smoke in before switching off the nob and heading for the toilet.

The cigarette hung loosely at his lips, dick in hand, as his pissed into the caked yellow bowl. The tobacco had long since numbed most of his sense of smell to his surroundings. The rot in the walls, dog shit wafting in from the neighbor’s yard, even his own sour stink of alcohol, piss, and B.O. But in his gut he knew it would bother others, that they would take offence of him, that they would notice him. And that he could not abide. Because once people notice, then they begin to pity. Like the teachers in school who held their breath when he walked by, and shook their heads when he ate nothing but white bread and peanut butter day in and day out, but could never be bothered to do much more then be aghast. He shut down that thought too- pushed it way back into the recesses of his mind.

'Fucking Allman Brothers, why do I listen to that shit? It just makes me remember crap that don't need remembering.' He thought to himself, rushing back into the kitchen and hitting stop just as the first refrains of 'Melissa' began to play. He ejected the cassette and shoved in a Moterhead tape with a lot more force then was necessary.

He opened the fridge and poked at the remains of a two-day old pizza; hard, greasy, and mostly gone. 'Just like me.' He thought, a dry chuckle dying in his chest.

He headed to the shower. He stripped off his sticky, sweaty underwear and stepped into the lukewarm water. He let it cut through the grime, standing still, forcing himself to forget the day. He had to get out of here. Fuck the city, fuck the people, fuck his shitty job. He washed up quickly; ignoring the small jolt of pleasure he got from washing his cock. 'Ain't nobody on earth wants a piece of that- not even me today'; he reflected, pushing away thoughts of the girls again.

He dressed quickly and packed his bag for several days’ worth of hunting, before switching off everything he had turned on and heading out the door. He made a beeline for his bike, suddenly aching for the idea of being on the road. With his pack and bow strapped securely to the back, he ran the pads of his fingers over the gas tank of his bike, dusting it softly. Then he straddled her in one fluid motion, kicked the stand, and flexed his fingers in anticipation of the ache that would soon set in. He reluctantly pulled on his helmet; then took off in a spray of dirt and debris. He could almost feel himself pulling away from those girls. Almost.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

February

He was running, but the walkers were everywhere. This was a bad supply run, one of the worst. Rick would be sorely disappointed. But their people needed medicine- it was the only reason he had taken so many risks today. Goddamn it, where was Glen? Two people were lost already. He could smell the death right behind him; getting closer, closer...

He woke up with a snap, inhaling sharply. That same goddamn dream he'd had for years. The details would vary; sometimes it was outside of Atlanta, in an abandoned prison, or even some ridiculously picturesque small town. But the main idea was the same; he was a hero. He had a whole group of people who relied on him, trusted him. Some even loved him. 'I'm a fucking retard' he thought to himself wistfully, rubbing his grimy hands over his eyes. He sat up and stretched, his joints cracking into place. His mattress lay on the floor, so he slipped on his pants from their pile on the carpet.

He'd made it to the kitchen, and was pouring instant coffee into the same stained mug he used every day, when there was knock at the door. Since he'd lost his job, the people who it might be were limited. He'd moved in with Merle about a month ago. But two weeks later Merle had gotten arrested on his warrant; so it wasn't him. Uncle Jess lived a good 30 minutes away- and would have called him first before showing up. It was probably the landlord. Merle rented a trailer on the back end of some land owned by some dude named Steve. Apparently he had been in the service with Merle, and he let them stay there for cheap. But now that Merle was gone, he was pretty sure he was about to get the boot.

"Yeah, I'm cummin'!" He shouted. He looked down at himself; dirty, half awake, and his pants weren't even zipped. It hit him all at once; a tightening in his chest, and a feeling of emptiness that spread across his body like a wave. He decided he didn't even care anymore. Spring was almost here; he could be homeless again for a while. He threw open the door. The wind howled in, bringing a little wet along with it.

"Oh!" Came a startled little voice from the bottom step. A woman's voice. "That was quick. Sorry, I hope I didn't wake you?"

He noticed her eyes first. Huge brown eyes, like a doe. Then her hair- it was long and flowed like waves with the wind, the early morning sun lighting up subtle auburn highlights along the brown strands. And she was smiling at him. Who the hell ever smiled at him? It was unnerving.

She cleared her throat. "Mr. Dixon?" She was still smiling. "May I come in? I'm not normally so insistent, but to be frank, I'm about to freeze my tits off out here."

He ran his hand over his face. "Yeah, yeah, sure." He stepped back and she walked in, blowing on her hands to warm them. "You here about Steve?"

"Steve Wilkerson? No, I'm here about Daryl Dixon. That's you, right?" She turned and faced him. She took him in, and decided he looked like a stray dog; dirty, broken, and sad as hell. His arms crossed over his chest, his eyes on the floor. He nodded, his eyes darting up just a little. "How would you feel about a job?"

He shot her a glare. "What? What ya’ mean?"

"Sorry, I'm Marion Atwell. I live about a quarter mile from here, if you take that little deer trail behind your trailer." She leaned against the fridge door, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Merle was supposed to do some work for me, but it appears that he up and got himself arrested."

"It ain’t his fault- it’s that stupid gang of his." He noted that had come out way harsher then he had meant it to, but nobody was going to talk about it brother that way. Even if they smelled like lavender.

She unzipped the jacket she wore and adjusted the lapels. "I meant no offence Daryl. I was just trying to make light of a serious subject. I apologize. Do you want me to go?"

He looked at her through his lowered lashes. God damn it she was beautiful. She had on a white tank top that showed off the tops of her breasts, and her low slung jeans curved perfectly around her hips. What fresh hell was this? "No. You got a job for me?"

"Yes, for several months if that's alright."

"I probably won’t be around for that long. This place is rented to my brother, and that Steve guy probably won’t let me stay out the month, much less through the summer." He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Let me worry about that. I think I can handle Mr. Wilkerson."

"Don't need no woman fighten' my battles for me."

She sighed. "Think of it as a down payment. We don't know each other, but I've heard good things about you. And if I talk to Wilkerson, then you know you can count on my word. Sound fair?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Labor around the farm, house maintenance, car maintenance. It’s just me and my two boys, and this god damn house is a nightmare. I moved in two months ago and I just can’t keep up. I thought I could renovate it on my own, but I work four days a week and I just don't have the skills. Merle said you were pretty handy, it that right?"

"Yeah, I know my way around a set of tools. When do you want me?"

"As soon as possible. I had a cord of wood delivered a week ago and I need it split and stacked. I have today off, I only work Monday through Thursday, so any indoor work you'll have to do Friday through Sunday. But there's plenty to do outside as well."

"How much you payin'?"

"I can’t really afford much, maybe a two hundred a week. I don't expect you to come every day, I just want to see steady progress. And if the water heater blows up in the middle of the night, or a bear decides to set up camp on my lawn, I want to know I can call you. So will you help us?" Her brows knitted a little, and she chewed her bottom lip mercilessly.

"Make it two fifty and you got yourself a deal."

"two twenty-five." She was smiling again, and god, did it feel like sunshine.

"You got yourself a deal lady."

"You can call me May, everybody does." She held out her hand to shake, which he did. He noted how short she was, probably a full head shorter then him. "Will I see you today?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll come by after breakfast and check out your property."

"Alright. See you soon then." She headed out the door with a little wave. He watched her walk away, the perfect little arch of her ass disappearing around the corner of his trailer. It wasn't until the buckle of his belt made a clang against the metal door that he remembered that his pants were still open.  
\---------------------------------------------------------  
After a tour of her property he had gotten to work on splitting the wood. He hadn't been able to get out more than a yes ma'am and no ma'am the whole time they talked, and he had silently berated himself for it for the rest of the morning. And he still wasn't completely sure why she had chosen him; there must be a dozen guys he could think of that could do this same work. "And wouldn't have anything to do with the fucked up Dixon family mess" he thought, with no small amount of anger.

It was almost one in the afternoon when she stuck her head out of the front door and called to him. "Daryl? Hey! I'm sitting down to eat; you want a sandwich or somethin'?"

He didn't really know what he was supposed to say. On one hand, the idea of making idol chit chat with woman he hardly knew seemed like his version of hell. On the other, the money he got from pawning his bike was running out and he was starving. And if he waited too long to respond he would seem like a weirdo...

"Don't overthink it sweetheart. Its ham and cheese I'm offering, not a piece of the true cross." Her tone seemed light- was she laughing at him?

"You pay me a wage, you aint' got to feed me too!" Too rough again, he thought. If he somehow kept this job he was going to have to work on that.

"Just get your ass in here Daryl" her tone a little more demanding. "I've never forced my cooking down anybody's throat before, don't you make me start now." She turned and went back inside, the screen door slamming behind her.

He smiled, despite himself. She was going to be a sweet little pain in the ass- but he was quick to remind himself not to enjoy it too much. She was the boss after all, and nothing this good ever lasted long. He shuffled in the front door, all hunched shoulders and shifty eyes. He could see all the way from the front to the back door, the layout all open from the living room to the kitchen. She was busy in the kitchen but looked up when he walked in. "Well, it looks like I won’t have to drag you in here kicking and screaming after all. The bathroom is right over there to wash up." She pointed to a wooden door to the right side of the living room.

After following her directive, he joined her at the small wooden table. "I hope you don't mind ham and cheese, it’s all I've got."

"Not like I got a lot of choice, you made that pretty clear." His arms were crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders still hunched.

"You don't have to be social with me if you don't want to Daryl. I just want to get to know you. You seem like an interesting person." She started in on her lunch, trying not to look him in the eye- trying not to spook him.

He let his head bob even lower. "Ain’t nothing interesting about me. Ask anybody round here, nothing good comes out of the Dixon family."

"Actually, I did. My coworker Carol says she knows you, says she went to high school with you. When I mentioned I was needing someone to work, she couldn't say enough good things about you. Not so much about Merle. But you, she couldn't say enough about."

'That's Carol to a T' he thought to himself with a smile. He had a huge crush on her 20 years ago and never acted on it. She knew how he felt, everybody did, but she never called him out on it. She had always been dating that same asshole she married. He was surprised she spoke so highly of him. "And you trust her word enough to hire me?"

"That and the background check I'm going to run. I hope you understand, I can’t have you around my kids unless I know you don't have certain things on your record."

"Oh I got a record. Theft, assault- lots of stuff. If you lookin' for some goody two shoes then you better keep lookin' sweetheart." He started to get up, but she put her hand on his forearm. Her hand was warm, and he could smell lavender again. He looked up a little and could see right down her white shirt. 'God, what a handful that would be' he thought, his tongue dipping over his dry lips.

"Daryl, don't go." He stopped, but didn't sit down. She didn't pull her hand back, but let it slide down his forearm before letting go. "Just think about it. I've got two little boys. You're not dumb, you know what kind of crimes I'm really looking for. What any good mother would look for before hiring a man she just met. I imagine you would actually think less of me if I didn't."

He did know, when she put it that way. "Yeah, I guess I do know what you mean. You can look all you want; you won’t find anything with kids on my record. I ain't even been to jail in over a decade." He sat back down and started to eat, wolfing down the food faster then what was probably polite. "Scews' me" he said, bashful, licking the last of the mayo off his fingers.

She was only about a third of the way through her food, but she stood and took his plate. "I'll make you another if you want." He nodded, and she smiled again. 'She grins like a goddamn Cheshire cat, I bet she's smart as shit.' He cleared his throat. "So what the fuck you wanna' know about me?" Tightness formed in his chest at the very thought of telling anyone anything about himself. 'Might as well just dive right in’.

She reached into a cupboard, pulled out a bag of chips, and tossed it to him. "Here, help yourself. You want a soda?" He nodded, tearing into the chip bag. "How about you tell me a little about Carol? Was she always that ridiculously nice?" May had quickly realized that Daryl would probably rather buy her tampons rather than talk about himself, so she let it go. For now. Carol seemed like a much safer topic to get him talking, and she still needed to get a good feel for personality before he started coming around on a daily basis. And it did get him talking, at least a little. After 45 minutes, a large bag of chips, two cokes, and another sandwich, he finally showed signs of getting full. He learned pretty quickly that she had an easy laugh, and like any kid from the wrong side of the tracks he had a few good stories to share from when he was young and dumb. But he was still painfully shy, and completely unsure how much was safe to tell her. So she filled in most of the time with chatting while he ate, trying her best to make him feel less awkward. Slowly, his body language softened a little. She told him a dirty joke that he hadn't heard before and he laughed. He watched as she tidied up, her mouth moving soundlessly to the words of the song on the radio. This moment, he wanted it held forever in his mind. Her beauty, a full stomach, the song on the radio- everything. Memories like this kept him alive in his darkest moods.

She looked at him, her head cocked to the side. "Daryl?" Her smile walked towards him, and when she bit her lip he felt transfixed. She sat back down at the table, and his head shot down again; protecting him from her searching eyes. "What's going on in that big ol’ brain of yours? Hmm?"

"Aint nobody ever accused me a bein' an egghead, you sure you aint’ tetched?" he deflected. Back to his mouth went his fingernail.

"I am entitled to my opinion. And I'm usually right about people." She fidgeted under the table, trying to at least appear to have a cool head.

"You hired Merle didn't cha?" he fired back.

"Touché. But I never had this much conversation with Merle, and from what I've heard, I probably wouldn't have let him in the house; much less eat my food." She saw his eyes darken again. "I know he's your brother. But I get the feeling he would probably say something brash about my tits, I would yell, he would yell, I would shoot him in the knee..." Daryl chuckled a little and she knew she had him back on track. "So. Here we are. You and me. Are you still alright with our arrangement?" He nodded. "Good. How much more work do you have on that wood pile left?"

"It’s pretty much done, unless you want me to bring some in?"

"Yes, please. Right in the bin next to the stove."

He nodded again and headed out the door. He brought in four arm loads before the bin was filled, then started the stove burning for her. She got his information, and told him she would call once she got the background check back. Then he could start in earnest. He had walked off her porch when she called for him to wait. She ran back into the house, and came back out carrying a paper bag.

"It’s just some cookies I made. I always make too much food, so please take some." She held out the bag, and was surprised that he took it from her without complaint. "And Daryl? I'm looking forward to seeing you again. I will be seeing you again, wont I?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Good. Bye now." With a smile and wave she was gone, back inside her little cabin. He felt shell shocked. Had today actually just happened? Was he dead? He shuffled off back to his trailer, his nose deep in a paper bag of homemade cookies.

She stood inside, her back against the door, reflecting on the day. Carol was right about everything. He was handsome as sin, kind, handy. 'And hand to god, those shoulders... those goddamn shoulders. It was all she could do to keep her hands off him. He was rough, Carol had warned her about that. Shy to a fault, a little reckless, a little mouthy. And so skittish- he was more like a wild mustang then a man. Her tank top trick would normally get almost any man to flirt. But not Daryl Dixon, god damn it. He looked plenty, but not a move. He probably wouldn't know a move if it reached up and bit him in the ass. But she had time. She really had meant to renovate things herself, but life had a way of getting in the way. She just got lucky that her handy man was one of the most handsome men in the county- and he didn't even know it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

The days went by slowly for Daryl. He didn't know how long a background check took, but it felt like forever. He constantly checked his cell phone. He worried about missing her call, that his shitty phone had died, that she would call and just tell him to never come back. It seemed unending, the ways in which this all could go horribly wrong. As if by ruminating on all the different shitty endings he could somehow avoid them. He never let his pleasurable thoughts go too far- that was courting a whole different level of possible disappointment. Once, he let an idea creep into his head about what it would be like to sit on her couch. Which led to thoughts of watching her big TV. Which led to thoughts of living with her, which he shut down almost immediately. Almost. He tried to keep his fantasies to simple things; the breathy way she said his name, the softness of her hands, her smell. Things he could actually enjoy again- if she didn't get spooked by his arrest record.

She got the copy of his record back on Tuesday and gave him a call that evening after she had put the boys to bed. A little quiver of nerves hit her stomach, and she downed a glass of wine for confidence. 'Jesus Christ girl, you would think I was 16 years old again' she thought, her fingers shaking while dialing his number.

Although it was almost 11pm, he picked up almost at once. "Hello?"

"Hey sugar, it’s me, May." His mouth went dry and his palms went wet. Her voice was a little deeper on the phone and a little shiver went down his back. "I got your papers back from the sheriff's office, and you look pretty good to me."

"Good ain’t exactly what I call my record."

"That is true. You have been a very naughty man Daryl. But nothing I can’t handle." Was she doing it on purpose? Her voice, her tone, the words she chose. It felt like she was flirting with him, but maybe that was just her way. He didn't really know her that well- maybe she always sounded flirty on the phone. God knows she wouldn't really be flirting with him. She wasn't mean like that.

"Yeah... well if you say so. When you want me commin' by?"

"How about Friday? 9am ok with you?

"Yeah, that’s fine. Later."

"Bye Daryl." She hung up and felt like a fool, having spent the days ruminating on their potential conversation, assuming he would open up more over the phone. 'He's probably into leather wearing biker chicks, not some gross middle aged single mom. God, what the fuck was I thinking?' She slid off the couch and headed to bed, chiding herself the whole way. She decided that maybe they could still be friends- if he would let her. 'Why would a guy that handsome ever want me? I'm such a fucking idiot.'

A quarter mile away Daryl lay in his bed, about as happy as he had been in a very long time. He had a loop of things not to do playing in his head, trying to keep himself from getting too happy about the whole situation. 'Don't stare, she'll think you're a creepy fuck. Do as you're told. Don't get too comfortable...' the list went on and on; like a depressing pep talk. And when he was finally able to sleep he pulled his pillow to his chest, cradling it gently- like a woman he didn't want to let go of.  
\--------------------------------------------------  
He approached the house about 10 minutes to 9, nervous and unsure. He could hear music, with May softly singing along. At the end of the song he knocked, and she opened after a moment. She seemed different, her smile was drawn and she didn't have that same bounce to her that she had before.

"You are a little early. Come on in. I just got the boys off to school." He followed her haltingly, his hands wrapped securely around his chest. "You want something to eat? I made waffles and theirs a ton left."

"Why you keep tryin' to feed me? You think I can't feed myself?" There was the hostility again, but he didn't meet her eyes; only a few darting looks up from his shoes.

She gave short, dry laugh and told him to sit. "You ever hear of food insecurity?" He shook his head. She gestured toward the coffee and he nodded. She busied herself with the pouring. "It’s when you lack a stable food source for an extended period. It does damage to adults in a multitude of ways. But in children it’s even worse." He mulled over what she must think of him. What she might have heard. Weather this whole job situation was just another act of Christian charity. It wouldn't be the first. It was just a question of how much he could take; of the religion, of the pity. She sat down across from him at the table, handed him a cup, and he steadied himself. "I won’t give you a bunch of detail you probably don't give a shit about, but I grew up in the country and I grew up rough. I didn't really understand it until I was an adult, the ways it had affected me. Why I would eat and eat and eat. I got pretty fat for a while, though clearly I lost most of it. I worked through some shit. Anyway, my point being that I still obsess over food, just not as much. I always buy too much, cook too much. So it’s up to you, eat or watch me toss it on the fertilizer pile. Foods on the counter, plates on the shelf, help yourself."

He got up slowly and made his way behind her into the kitchen. When he came back around, his plate had all the leftover food on it, piled high. "I'm the ones gunna' get fat, you keep feedin' me like this."

She laughed, a little lighter now. "Not the way I'm going to work you. Now eat, your gunna' need it." They worked the morning away in the back yard. It was still cold, but they soon worked up a sweat, clearing blackberry bushes, saplings, and rocks out of the wild expanse. After a couple of hours May got her hair caught in some brambles. She pulled and cursed to high heaven, but was stuck pretty well. She heard him behind her, voice soft. "Easy, easy." She felt his hand on her back, then in her hair. He had taken off his work gloves and gently eased each strand out and away of the thorns. "Alright, you're free."

She pulled out her ponytail holder, then worked some small pieces out with her fingers. "Thanks. Ow! Shit!"

"Damn it woman, come here." He ran his fingers through her hair, working out the smaller brambles. Her hair smelled like scratch n’ sniff strawberries, and more than once he leaned in and took a deep breath of its scent. When he was satisfied, he pulled his gloves back on and gave a short bark; "Alright."

She felt sheepish. "Thanks. Sorry, I'm a dumbass."

"You aint' a dumbass. Just try to keep your head on straight."

"Yes sir, I'll try."

"Shut up." But he smiled, and so did she, and it made the whole thing a little easier. They worked up an easy rhythm of working together, and by 2 pm she called it a day. "Oh. Oh my god. Daryl, I think I'm going to die." They had had small interactions throughout the day, not so much an ongoing conversation with words, but small gestures and short remarks to make the other laugh. He insisted on carrying all the heavy loads, and even tried to talk her out of helping at all, but she wouldn't hear of it.

"You'll survive. You're a tough girl." He followed her inside, and accepted a glass of water.

"You coming by tomorrow?" She had noticed him walking stiff, digging one set of fingers again and again into lower back, a grimace cutting into his face when he thought she wasn't looking.

"Naw, but I'll be here on Sunday to finish up those thorn bushes, if that's alright."

"Yeah, that's fine. I won’t be able to help you though, the kids will be here and there still too little to watch after themselves."

"You mean you won’t be gettin' in my way." He had a little smirk on his face, and he dared to look her in the eye.

"Daryl Dixon, are you sassing me?"

"No Ma'am, I'm just tellin' it how it is."

"Nope, I'm pretty sure that sass. But I'm going to let it slide because you worked like a dog today and I appreciate it." He downed the rest of his water and left the glass on the counter. He turned away and headed for the door. "I'll see you on Sunday then?"

"Yep."

"See you later sugar." He loved it when she called him sugar. He turned and smiled, giving her a little awkward wave before heading out the door. He would have come on Saturday, and every day of the week if she would have him. But his back was threatening to give out on him and sure as hell wasn't going to fall apart in front of her. He spent the next day on his back, letting it heal, and read his favorite comics again for the millionth time.  
\-------------------------------------  
When Sunday came he approached with halting feet and his hands in his pockets. There was a little boy on the porch, five or six years old, rubbing his nose and looking upset. "Hi. Are you Mr. Dixon?"

"Yeah... but, um, just call me Daryl." He sat down slowly next to the boy, hands folded.

"Mama says I'm to call you Mr. or Sir." Daryl could feel, more than see, the little boys darting looks. "I'm supposed to tell you something."

"What's that little man?"

"I broke the garbage disposal."

"Yeah? And?"

"You gotta fix it." The boy wiped his nose on one sleeve and his eyes on the other.

"So what you cryin' about? I'm the one's gotta fix it."

"Mama's gunna' make me paint her toenails cuz I shoved all my play dough down the sink." The boy became emphatic, little hands waving. "But its Alfie's fault! He told me to do it! He said it would come out the other side like a play dough press but it didn't!"

Daryl stifled a smile under one hand. "An' who is Alfie?"

"My older brother." This was starting to hit a little close to home. "Come on kid, let’s talk to your Mama. Maybe she'll let you help me fix the disposal- how about that for a punishment?"

The boy lit up fireworks. "Yes! Yes! Can I?"

"Whoa there kid, if your gunna' convince your Mama, you may want to tune it down a little bit."

"Yeah, got it. Thanks Mr. Daryl."

He let out a deep sigh and followed the boy into the house, ready for a bit of a dust up with May. She moved around the kitchen like a bird, the smells of hot breakfast filling the room. Another boy of about seven sat on the couch watching cartoons.

"Mama! Mama! Mr. Daryl is here!"

"What did I tell you about being respectful Hap?"

"But you said Mr. and Daryl said to say Daryl so I did both."

He ran up and hugged her legs, and she broke out in a grin. "As long as you asked. Now, did you tell him why you stormed out of the house a minute ago?" The boy nodded and dug his face into her leg. She looked to Daryl, still hanging out near the front door. "Sorry to hit you with a new project as soon as you get here. Will you eat with us?" He nodded, wiping clammy hands on his pants, and headed for the table. "Sit anywhere, doesn't matter. Alfie? Alfie! Get over here!"

He sat in the middle of the small square table. The smaller boy sat next to him, grinning. "Ima' sit here next to you, ok?" Daryl nodded, running his palms over his pants legs. The older boy sat across from him, eyes still glued to the TV across the room. May started scooping huge piles of scrambled eggs onto each plate, leaving little room for the toast and bacon sitting on their serving dishes at the table. All of sudden it felt like too much. Like the walls were closing in and he needed to get out. This had happened before- he just needed to ride it out. He took a deep breath and pulled away from the table.

"Where you off to Sugar?" He cut a glance at May and her brows where knitted.

He couldn't look at her too long and kept heading for the door. "Smoke, I'll be back." He got to the porch, pulled out his pack, and lit one up. He paced, waiting for the rhythm of smoking to calm his nerves. 'It’s just eggs and a couple of kids you dumb fuck. Pull your head out of your ass.' But he knew it wasn't that easy. He could hear the voice of Merle in his head, berating him, as always. That he would get attached; to the woman, to the kids. That she wasn't the kind to be into dirty rednecks- just some uppity bitch. Then he would be out of a job and be a mopey asshat about it. Merle would tell him to work there until he fucked her, then ditch asap. But he could also hear his uncle's voice in his head saying; 'Well what do you want boy? Not what your dumbass brother wants for ya?' Uncle Jess would tell him to fight- or he didn't deserve it in the first place. Daryl could hear May and the kids talking in the background, the little one- Hap?- asking his Mama if Daryl was coming back. Alfie berating him for it. And suddenly he couldn't be outside anymore. Nothing in the world was more important than going back inside that goddamn house. He ground out the cigarette, threw it in the yard, and headed back inside.

Little Hap turned out to be quite chatty, which was fine with Daryl. The older boy seemed much less trusting, but was very interested when he learned that Hap was going to be allowed to help take apart the garbage disposal. The three of them worked for a couple of hours, taking it apart, cleaning it out, and putting it back together. And when Daryl went out back to work on the shrubs, they followed him like little ducks. He let them help a little, and around 1pm May called out the back for lunch.

She leaned towards him as the boys headed to the bathroom to wash up. "Daryl, I should be paying you babysitting money too."

"Naw, their good boys. Just wanna help."

"Well they sure do like you well enough. Alfie really hasn't taken to anyone..." She paused just a breath, but it was enough for him to notice. "...since their father died." She put on a good 'company is here' type of smile and kept going. "And it’s good for them to get off the couch, they watch way too much TV."

"Don't knock TV, it sure raised me."

"Well it did a bang up job of it then, because you were a miracle worker with that garbage disposal. It works better than it did before. And since you took the kids all morning, I was able to catch up on laundry. So thanks."

"It's nuthn'" He mumbled, chewing his fingernail again. But he had that half grin on his face and she accepted that he seemed happy with the situation.

"Mama! Can we watch cartoons while we eat lunch?" Hap was yanking so hard on her jeans that they threatened to come off.

"Yes, I suppose, since Daryl said you were so helpful today."

"Daryl! You wanna watch cartoons with us? There's this great one about a red truck..."

"Hap, I'm sure Daryl doesn't want to watch cartoons."

"It’s cool, I love cartoons. Why don't you tell me about it?

"Alfie! Alfie! Daryl's gunna' watch cartoons with us!" Alfie followed Hap to the couch and helped his little brother up. May brought their food to the table and they ate; Alfie hushing Hap whenever he started talking too much.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character of Daryl’s uncle is taken from the video game The Walking Dead: Survival Instinct.

Chapter 4 

March

They continued that way for almost four weeks. Daryl would work Thursday through Sunday; clearing garbage people had dumped when the property was empty, fixing her car, evening out the driveway, and a host of other odds and ends. The boys followed him everywhere; Hap's endless chatter in the backdrop. They slowed him down quite a bit, with questions and wanting to help, but things still moved along. At first he had felt more kinship with the younger boy, being the younger child himself. But soon he learned that Alfie was much more like him in temperament, asking thoughtful questions and watching with a careful eye. And then there was May. She treated him much like she did the boys, bandaging scrapes and pats on the head now and then, but he never again felt like she was making passes at him. He figured she wanted a friend, and he was happy to be there however she wanted him. She always apologized on Sundays, when she handed him his envelope full of cash; that it should be more, with all he did for them. He always told her to shut up about it- because god knows he would never tell her that they were the only reason he was getting out of bed in the morning.

Finally, she asked him to do something he didn't know how to do; fix the fuse box. "It’s electrical, not somethin' I've ever done. But I know a guy." She raised one eyebrow, which by now was his clue that she was not impressed. "Don't worry, it’s my Uncle. He's handy as shit."

He got Jess to come out on a Saturday because Daryl was family. They stood alone in the laundry room, working on the switches while May kept the boys outside and out of the way. They were about half way through when Jess interrupted their silence. "So, you going to Merle's sentencing hearing?"

"What's the point? That judge is a bitch. And the prosecutor ain’t no help either. Aint' no difference me bein' there or not."

"Probably. And you know how I feel about your brother. No love lost there. But he's your brother, and he's looking at fifteen years. That's a long goddamn time to be away. And you know he aint' getting no parole."

"It’s his own goddamn fault- leavin his finger prints because he couldn't fucking wait to take a pill. Not ten more fucking minutes. Goddamn junkie."

Jess filled in a switch and turned to Daryl. "I'll let it go for now. But think about it. I don't think I can be there that day, but one of us should be."

Daryl scoffed and let his hair fall in his eyes. He would have cut it weeks ago but May had told him that it suited him, and now he was pretty sure he would never get it cut again. Jess had turned back around to the panel, but kept going. "So tell me about this girl of yours that you have me out working in the sticks for, on a Saturday, at half fucking price."

"She aint' got no husband to help her, he died a couple of years ago. She don' talk about him much, but it sounds like he was a pretty useless asshole. She moved over here from out west, found the farm online and just up and decided to start over. An' she works at the county court house with Carol Peletier, that chick I went to high school with."

"And?"

"Aint' no fuckin' 'and'. I know what you’re gettin' at and there aint nothin' else."

"Bull shit. And you know it." Jess turned back around. "She looks at you like you hung the moon, and you're telling me there's nothing there? That you never even took her out to dinner?"

"No, it aint' like that" he spat out. May didn't really feel that way about him- did she?

"You like her don't cha? You treat her like she was made of porcelain and you can’t make eye contact for more than a few seconds."

"Maybe. I don't know." Jess was getting him all confused in the head. It had been so good till now, why fuck it up?

"Well she's got a pair of cow eyes on for you like I've never seen before, and if you don't see it then your blind and dumb. Ask her out before someone else does. You'll find another job if she fires you. But she won’t- I’ll bet my tool chest on it." Jess dropped the subject and went back to working, but Daryl ran it through his head over and over again for hours afterwards.  
\------------------------------------------  
April

Spring came with a torrent of storms, rougher then they had seen in a while but not the roughest ever. It had been raining for days, but by Wednesday the biggest storm hit, knocking out power to several areas in the county. May and the boys came home to a dark, cold house; and after starting a fire she called Daryl.

"Hey, I'm just calling to see if you have power."

"Nope, haven't had all day. Probably won’t for a while neither, hill country aint' exactly high priority."

"Are you doing alright? Until they turn it back on?"

He couldn't help but let out a little chuckle. "Yeah. You and the kids all set?"

"Well I'm about to find out." She laughed; "I got a shitty fire going, and we're about to find out if I can cook on a wood stove."

"Damn it all woman, I'll be over there in a minute." He hung up the abruptly, and she stared at the phone for a second before putting it back on the table. Daryl could be such a mystery sometimes. He was the first person she had ever met that could be tender and thoughtful while using a belligerent tone. She changed out of her work clothes, and by the time she got downstairs Daryl was in the living room stoking the fire.

She pulled her thick sweater closer around her. "Jesus, that was quick. Did you jog?"

"Bettern' gettin' soaked. Hey, I thought you said you grew up in the country. How come you don't know how to cook on a wood stove?"

She glanced at the boys sitting at the table, busy with homework and teasing each other. She got up closer to the stove, kneeling next to Daryl, her voice soft. "I was generally considered to be the useless one in my household. Mostly because I wasn't a boy, but also because I refused to accept that just because they were older than me, that my elders were always right- I guess I use to be pretty ornery." She kept her eyes on the fire, through the open door of the stove. She could feel his eyes on her, looking with that intensity that both intimidated and intrigued her. "So nobody really bothered to teach me much of anything; hell, I taught myself to tie my own shoes. I'm tougher for it though."

He looked away, chewing at his lips, his tone a little softer now. "My dad use ta call me the most useless son of a bitch that ever lived. Don't mean I don't miss em', now that he's gone. You miss yours?"

"Sometimes." She gave him a strained smile, eager to change the subject. "So what do you say Daryl, ya wanna give me a cooking lesson?"

He gave a dry little chuckle. "Sure." He felt intimidated by the idea of teaching anybody anything, but he pulled through, even with May asking him all kinds of questions that he never even thought about, much less had the answer to. 'Who the hell thinks about the proper technique for stovetop chicken and biscuits?' He kept thinking, but not stating, silently enjoying the attention of being the most knowledgeable one in the room for a change. And when he was able to sit back for a moment during dinner and just watch them actually enjoy his cooking, he felt a rush; like the sun on your face after a long rainy day. And like the sun, he had to turn away after a moment- the heat of the feeling in his chest threatening to consume him.

May decided that the boys room wasn't getting warm enough, and that they should sleep downstairs near the fire. While the boys took turns working the pump for the only blow up bed they had, a brief fight broke out between them about who got to sleep on it. She finally declared that they would share it.

"I'll go get some bedding. You two do not touch that stove, you hear me?"

"Yes, Mama." Came the chorus from the boys.

"Daryl, would you help me bring down some bedding?" He gave a little grunt and nod, and followed her upstairs. He hesitated at the door to her bedroom. This was another one of those situations that he felt was more dangerous than a mountain lion; but May handled with complete nonchalance. He looked around quickly, his arms wrapped fiercely around his chest. It was neat, clean, and lacked all the things he expected in a woman's bedroom; stuffed animals, porcelain figures, and ugly floral wall paper. It even seemed a little on the masculine side. He was looking at an elk antler sitting on a dresser when she shoved a large comforter in his arms. "Here, you take this, I've got some sheets for them."

She shifted a little in her posture, eyes only glancing at his face. He frowned, unsure if he had done something wrong. "Listen, Daryl..." His heart fell into his stomach. Those words never boded well. "I don't feel right, you staying all alone in that cold trailer. I know for a fact you don't have a wood burning stove in there, and the idea of sending you home to a cold metal box seems like the worst kind of hell." She took a deep breath, looking him in his narrowed eyes. "I want you to stay here a couple of days, just until the power comes back on. And I won’t take no for an answer." Then she got that look on her face, all steely eyes and set lips.

He shrugged; "Ok." And walked away, hiding the little sliver of a grin on his face.

"That's it? No snarling? No pouting? No acting like I'm giving you a prison sentence?" She followed him out of the room, arms full of badly folded sheets.

"I don't pout- hey! You boys cut it out!" She looked over the rail to see what Daryl was shouting at as he headed down the stairs. The kids were having a wrestling match that was way too close to the fire. It made her feel that much more comfortable with him, the way he always kept at least one eye on what the boys were doing. 'I wonder if he would make a good dad.' The thought flashed through her head, and she pushed it away just as fast. He was a good guy, but no way was he interested in getting adopted into their little household.

"Do I get time off for good behavior?" His question pulled her back out of her own head.

"Maybe. You keep cooking like that and I'll consider it." He looked back up the steps where she walked behind him. She gave him her full smile, all warmth and joy. He was learning to take it, but it was a hard lesson to learn- maybe the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. "You OK with the couch Sugar?"

"Yeah, where you gunna' sleep?"

"I think I'll just pull one of the boy's mattresses down, I should fit ok on it." She sat down on the floor and started to pull a fitted sheet over the blow up mattress.

"I'll do it, you stay here."

She shrugged. "Alright. Just give me a shout if you want help."

In the boy’s bedroom he worked his way past toy cars and Legos, making a path with his boot. He couldn't help but let memories of his own less privileged childhood seep in for a moment. But there was no self-pity there, no old childhood jealousy, only hope in a way that he did not understand, and did not ruminate on for long. He got the bed downstairs without issue, helped bring down the last of the bedding, and watched the boys while she lit some candles. He didn't know what to say, in the quiet of it, the soft familiarity that was coming over the four of them. He sat and watched the fire while the kids finished their homework and May folded laundry on the couch.

"Mama, I'm bored and I don't wanna read anymore." It was Hap, of course, unable to sit still for long. They had over an hour before their bedtime and May was starting to feel hard pressed to fill the time.

"Don't you have about a million toys upstairs?"

"I kinda board too Mama, and I'm tired of reading." Alfie piped up in his quiet little voice. She rubbed her hands over her eyes. She had already called in sick to work for Thursday, but the boys still needed to go to school tomorrow, the food in the fridge would probably be all bad...

"Mama!" Hap again, exasperated and feeling a little lost without TV.

"Either a' you boys know how to use a slingshot?" Daryl didn't look up from the fire, but he clearly had the boy’s attention. After several minutes of begging she finally relented. He went outside for a smoke, and came back with two small v shaped branches. After more begging, she allowed a short lesson in whittling, then some target practice against the front door with paper cups. It kept them occupied until bedtime. It was rough going, but they finally went to sleep.

May shushed Daryl, then pulled him into the kitchen. "You want a beer?"

"Hell yeah I do, those little shits ran me ragged." His voice was a whisper, and she could barely see his face, but she could tell he was in a good mood. She disappeared to the back porch and returned with two bottles. He took them from her and popped the tops with his keys before handing one back. She drank it in two long pulls, threw the bottle in the trash, and when she burped she dampened the sound with her fist.

"Damn girl, I guess you are country after all." He sipped his, one hand keeping warm under his arm.

"I'ma have another. And there's two more out there if you want one."

"I'm good." He replied with a whisper. She nodded at him, and when she came back he popped the top again for her. She sipped it a little this time, a shiver going through her.

"Cold?"

"Yeah. Like a dumbass I already packed up all our winter stuff. Thickest thing I have is this sweater." It was buttoned up, and she had one hand in her pocket, but was still shivering.

He downed his beer and placed the empty on the counter, taking hers as well. "Here, gimmie your hands." She did, and he wrapped his hands around hers. They were blessedly warm, his palms almost hot to the touch.

"Oh my god Daryl that feels amazing, thank you." He looked down, his head bobbing, and she could have sworn that she saw a hint of a blush. He started to pull away but she pleaded with him. "Please don't stop." He nodded, his hair falling in his eyes again. She decided speaking would be the surest way to make him more comfortable. She took a little step closer, and kept her voice at a whisper. "When I was little, it would get so cold in winter. In the Rockies, the snow falls so thick and so fast that it takes out buildings if you aren't careful..." He loved listening to her talk. It didn't happen often, but now and then they would steal a moment and she would tell him little antidotes about their life before Georgia. Her voice went deep when she told him stories, and she never seemed to falter when she spoke, no matter what she was talking about. Her even tone made him feel meditative, and sometimes he would even talk about himself, as if she had him in a trance. 

She shivered again, and he realized the rest of her must still be cold. "Hold up" he whispered, and started to slip off his leather vest and jacket; "take this."

"But then you'll be freezing." She stated flatly, pulling it back on him.

"I'll live." He tried to slip it back off.

"I know, you're a tough guy." She slipped it back over his shoulders. "We can both wear it, if your amiable." He frowned, unclear as to what she meant. She slowly slid her arms around his middle, her cheek pressed against his chest. She could feel his whole frame go stiff and still, his arms at his sides. She looked up at him, her chin on his breast bone. "Is this ok? Just for a little while?" He kept his eyes looking out over her head, but he nodded. "Good, then put your arms around my back. I'm fucking freezing." He picked her beer up, drank it, belched as quietly as he could, and did as he was told; wrapping his unsure arms around her.

'Fuck it... let’s just pretend I'm not wrapped around him like ivy and keep this party going.' She mused, before starting to talk again, basking in the warmth his body brought her. She took in his smell; leather, tobacco, Speed stick, and that certain otherness, that maleness, that she missed so much. Through the hard plains of his chest she could hear his heart, racing at a terrified speed. She took deep, vocal breaths while she spoke, moving her chest in and out for him to feel. It was an old trick, one to get babies too quiet down, and it slowly worked. She felt his arms begin to soften around her, and the tick of his heart become less pronounced. 'I always did have a way with wild things' she mused to herself, pleased, as she felt the tips of his fingers fiddling with the end of her long hair.

He tried to focus on her words, but the mantra in his head beat a steady rhythm; 'Don't fuck up, don't fuck up..' He was even too despondent to think about all the ways this situation could go horribly, and irrevocably, wrong. Hugging wasn't exactly in his wheelhouse. His mother had hugged him, on occasion, usually when drunk. Was he supposed to enjoy it? It felt more like sticking a handgun in his mouth. He felt a desperate need to fidget, and his fingers worked their way into her hair, moving of their own volition. He hoped to god she didn't notice, or worse yet comment on it. His head dipped, and he could smell her shampoo again- strawberries, and the light smell of lavender perfume. It took everything he had not to rub his face in it, like a cat making a scent marking. Her breasts were crushed against his torso, and just kept pressing; over and again against him. Even when she finally ended her story, he could still hear her, feel her, breathing against his shirt; her face now burrowed in his jacket. Slowly he let the pressure of her breaths affect his own, the air gently filling him with relief rather than chaos. He fought back a moan, turning it into a shiver, and in turn she starting rubbing at the muscles in his lower back, where the tightness never seemed to go away. It overtook him, the pleasure of the moment. The heat, the smell, the relaxing circles of her fingers; he squeezed her tightly, his arms seemingly acting of their own volition. And before he could even let the fear crawl back up his spine, she had squeezed him back, letting out a little sigh. A sigh that went right from his ears, straight down his dick. And then there was fear- absolute and ancient, that she would feel him stiffen and become repulsed.

She felt him harden against her thigh and she knew it was time to let go; as loath as she was to do so. Men always felt weird about unexpected erections; and knowing Daryl, he would be absolutely horrified by it. She looked up, and there he was, all intense searching eyes and doubt. "Thank you Daryl, that was just what I needed. You are a really good hugger."

"I don't hug. You hugged me. Ya' weirdo." She wrapped herself around him again and squeezed, just once, before letting go, the lack of contact sent shivers of cold through both their bodies.

"Come on, let’s go sit closer to the fire. I've got a book I want to finish reading. You want something off my book shelf?"

He shrugged, and went back up to her bedroom. He came down with some comic books, which he had been shocked and pleased to find. He kicked off his boots and sat down next to her on the couch, not quite touching. His heart sank a little when she moved to the other end, but he understood when she burrowed her cold feet under his leg. "Mmmm sweet Daryl warmth." She whispered under her breath.

"Shut up. It’s like your made of ice. You have coolant in yur' blood or somethin'?"

She stuck her tongue out at him and he flipped her off. She threw a lap blanket at him, which he curled up under, pulling her calves and feet onto his lap, underneath the cover. After a while he looked up from his reading and noticed she was asleep. He debated what to do, and finally decided that the small mattress on the floor would be much more comfortable than the couch. He reached over slowly, and pulled the blanket off of the small bed. Then, as carefully as he could, scooped her up and laid her down on the tiny mattress. She seemed to wake up a little, saw him, smiled, and feel back asleep. He covered her up and lay down on the couch, facing the little family that had taken him in. 'What am I gunna' do without them, when they finally cut me loose?' He knew it would come, as inevitable as that rain outside. He curled up under the blanket, satisfied that for today at least, he was still in their good graces.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

He was hunting, and there were blessedly few walkers today. But it was raining and the game was not plentiful. He had been noticing a lot of snares in this area lately. They were amateur, but effective, getting most of the small game. Then he saw, cutting loose a rabbit out of a trap, a woman. He approached her cautiously, bow aimed at her. He asked her over and over again who she was without reply. But he knew who it was- it was May, all decked out in survivalist gear. She beckoned him to follow her, and he did, as if transfixed. They walked to the entrance of a well-hidden bunker, that somehow held the entire cabin inside. She led him with a gentile hand towards a door that he hadn't noticed before, and she finally spoke; "This is your room Darryl! Welcome home!" She threw it open, and from the darkness swarmed a hoard of walkers, impossibly fast. And she was laughing at him as he ran, desperate... And he woke to the harsh ring of a phone.

The alarm on May's phone woke them all up, and in a whirl of activity they were off. May got the boys clean clothes, lunches packed, and cash for them to buy breakfast at school. The three of them moved like a hurricane around him, and he kept to the couch to stay out of their way. She drove the boys to the bus stop with hardly a glance at Daryl, leaving him on the couch feeling a little shell shocked. He got up, stoked the fire, and ate a couple of cold biscuits with butter and jam. Ten minutes later, May was back in the house. Her hair was damp from the rain, and her cheeks were red with cold. She shuffled off her wet shoes and sweater; leaving her standing next to the fire in nothing but yoga pants and that white tank top again. The white tank top. He tried not to look, he really did. But her skin tight clothing was something that he was just not use to. She shivered and finally addressed him. "I'm sorry, but I'm kind of a hot mess in the morning. Even on normal mornings. You just miss all the fun because you get here after I've made myself decent looking and had a cup of coffee."

He shrugged, and started to dig through the cupboards. "I'ma make some food. You want?" She nodded. "Then you better get back under the covers and get the fuck out of my way. You aren't the only one bitchy in the morning." She did so, moaning at the feeling of warm blankets wrapping around her. She nodded off, not waking up again until she felt him shake her arm a little. Her eyes opened to a plate sitting on the edge of the bed, filled with food. "Eat. And keep that blanket around you. I can’t have you gettin' sick."

She ate, blanket around her shoulders, as peaceful as she had been in a long while. She looked around a little at what he had been up to while she slept. It was tidier then before; bedding was folded, and her sweater that she left on the floor was now on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, drying by the fire. She ventured to look at Daryl, scooping pile after pile of eggs into his mouth. He looked as fidgety as always inside the house, like a big handsome ball of phobias and quirks. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." He stated flatly, staring into the fire.

She turned her head a little to the side before asking; "What do you do with yourself when you aren't here? I prattle on about myself all the time. Come on gimmie a little something."

"Ain't nothin' to say."

"You ever hear the phrase 'Still waters run deep'?"

"Yeah."

"Well you are about the stillest water I have ever seen."

"That so?"

"Yeah. Do you hunt around here?"

"A little."

"What do you catch?"

"Squirrel, possum, rabbits. Rodents that the rangers won’t give shit for me having caught."

"I haven't had squirrel since I was little. Snake either, my grandfather use to catch them and make earrings for tourists." That got her a little chuckle out of him.

"I keep forgetting you come from rednecks."

"Come on, what else do you get up to?"

He stared at the fire, willing her to quit talking, keeping his thoughts to himself; 'I stand in the woods and watch the kids play because I'm worried about them running off and getting lost like I did. I kill raccoons around your house because I know you fucking hate them. I drink cheap beer at Rick's bar and think about your lips...' He cleared his throat. "Sometimes I go and visit Merle. His sentencing is commin' up and it doesn't look good."

'Well that came out of left field.' She paused with the thought for a moment, having expected something more along the lines of strip clubs and biker bar fights. "When is it? I recused myself from anything to do with his case, since I know him."

"It's next week. Jess keeps riden' me to go, but I don't know."

"Would you mind if I went? I wouldn't want to overstep."

"No, I mean, yeah, that would be great. I sure he would love seeing..."

"Someone with a rack?" She grinned.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "I suppose he would."

"So Daryl. Breakfast in bed. A girl could get use to this."

"Shut up."

"I'm dead serious. Anytime you want to wake me up with some bacon or waffles, just go for it. House key is under the mat."

"You use to just letting strange men in your house?"

She pretended to wince. "Ouch! But no. Just you. You're all the strange I need."

He didn't respond, and she didn't seem to expect him too; she had begun flipping through her cell phone. He finished eating, a knot in his stomach. What the hell was she playing at? Goddamn women, always being fucking complicated. Meanwhile, May was silently berating herself. 'Just had to keep going, didn't ya dumbass? You just had to poke that bear.' She finished eating and took both their plates to the sink. She filled her biggest pot with water and lugged it over to the stove.

"What the fucks that for?" He growled at her, clearly still grumpy.

'Kill 'em with kindness' was her thought before putting on her smile. "Coffee first, then a whore's bath in the sink, and then dishes if there’s any left. Then I need to look into the freezer and see what can be saved and what to be tossed."

"Whore's bath? What the fuck is that?" He squinted up at her, lips in a little sneer.

"A washcloth, a sink full of water, and as much washing you can do before your ass begins to freeze."

He made a little exasperated sound and turned back to the fire. "That why you called in to work? You couldn't shower?"

"That and a freezer of food that needs to go before it starts to stink." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Smart ass."

May busied herself picking up while he kept the fire extra hot. He felt lost in a quagmire, like she was some kind of evil river monster that had lured him into dangerous water. It pissed him off- a lot. But no matter how much pissy attitude he showed, she never seemed to falter in her friendliness towards him. He watched while she threw out food, and berated her shopping choices. He taunted her girly-ness when she was in the bathroom washing and putting on her makeup. Even the way she had made the coffee.

Finally, he seemed to get to her when she was looking for her keys. "You got that princess, or you need my help with that too?"

"Daryl, I don't know what crawled up your ass. But I am asking you please, stop it or so help me."

Now this was familiar territory for him. Anger, threats, this he could do. "Or what? You gunna kick me out?"

Instead of yelling she approached him, slowly, where he sat on the arm of the couch. His arms were wrapped around him, and she got so close that her chest brushed his arm hair. She was smiling tightly, almost glowering. His head pulled back a little, unsure what she had in mind; a slap, a punch, screaming?

Instead, her voice was quiet. "You know, just because you have a bee in your bonnet doesn't mean I like you any less. I need you to know that. Now, I need to go into town for a bit to re-charge my phone and get some food for dinner. I will probably also get myself a cheeseburger because after the last hour, I really fucking deserve it. If you want to leave this house and never come back, then it’s your choice, it’s not like I have you handcuffed to a chair. The other option is that you can make it up to me my giving me a ride into town on your motorcycle while there's a break in the weather. Either way, I want you to go take a walk and cool off a little, because clearly something I've said has pissed you off royally. I'm leaving in half an hour. I hope I see you again; and I really do." She turned and went upstairs to her room and shut the door, listening for him to leave. And when he did, she worked hard to hold back tears, hoping that that was not the last time she would see him.

He left towards his trailer, mulling over what she had said. Goddamn it. How had she done it? Gone and taken a perfectly good fight and turned it around on him? Now he felt like garbage, worse than that even. Because it was his own fault. He stumbled down the now well-worn path between their two homes, hardly looking up from his feet. He considered not going back- it would be the easiest option after all. But when he walked into the stone cold metal box that was his home, he knew he couldn't do it. He ran to Merle's room, and started digging through his closet.

It was almost five minutes past the time she said she would leave. It had been hard, but she didn't cry. She was sitting on the porch, feeling like a moron, when she heard the deep rumble of a motorcycle coming up the driveway. Daryl pulled off his helmet. "Sorry I'm late, but I had to find the helmet that Merle's ex-girlfriend left in his room."

She was giving him her grin again. "I'll go get my jacket." He nodded and waited for her to return. She came back with a serviceable leather jacket and a backpack on. "Ok, so I haven't been on a bike since I was in college."

"Huh. Is that why you want to take my bike and not your car?"

"Yeah." She chewed her lip, looking it over. "So will you show me what to do?" All of a sudden she looked so young and excited.

"Yeah, here..." He took a couple of minutes, walking her through how to lean when he turned, how to sit, how not to get burned by the pipe. She was strapping on the helmet when he cleared his throat a little. "So, um, I don't know, you wan'a maybe ride around a little? I just got my bike back out of pawn and I haven't been able to ride her much yet, I mean, if you don't want too..."

"Daryl, I can’t think of anything I would rather be doing. And honestly, I am really fucking excited. So can we get this show on the road?" He gave her an awkward nod and mounted the bike. When she followed suit, he gave her a moment to settle in before starting it. Then they took off over the mountains for over an hour, enjoying the little bit of midday sun they had before the rains came back. He enjoyed the feel of her behind him, aside from a few helmet to helmet taps. He was worried that he wouldn't be able to let his thoughts wonder, but they did. He felt more lost then he had in a very long time. He understood fear, anger, hurt, guilt. But having it all mixed up with- what? He didn't know, and even the idea of thinking about it scared him. He pushed away whatever 'it' was to the back of his mind. He focused on the physical, her thighs wrapped around him, and how they would grip when she got nervous. The feel of her breasts pressed into him when he would stop short, or the grip of her hands on his torso.

After while he pulled off at a divey looking bar on the outskirts of town with the name 'Ricks' at the top. She pulled off her helmet and fussed with her hair. "I've passed this place a bunch of times, you know it?"

"Yeah, that guy Rick," he pointed to the sign, "he's alright."

They walked in, eyes adjusting to the low light. It was pretty dead, only a few old drunks spread out over the shabby interior, looking half alive in their slow, aching manner. She felt his hand on the small of her back, leading her to booth along the wall. She sat, depositing her helmet, jacket, and bag next to her. He nodded a little, as if trying to convince himself of something, before sitting. He had his elbows on the table and his hand over his face as if trying to shield himself. "Thanks for the drive, I really enjoyed it. I can see why you would take that thing everywhere." He nodded again, and she began to worry that they were right back where they started.

She was plugging in her phone when a wiry looking man with a grey beard approached the table. "Daryl. Haven't ever seen you sit over here away from the bar. Course I haven't ever seen you out with a lady before either."

"Hi, I'm May, nice to meet you."

"I'm Rick. Daryl's a regular of mine." He turned to Daryl. "So this is May?" Daryl shot Rick a murderous look, but Rick only laughed.

She let out a nervous chuckle. "I guess you've heard of me then? Daryl comes in here to blow off steam about his shitty neighbor?"

Rick pulled a rickety looking wooden chair from another table and sat down with them. "Well I may have..."

Daryl stood suddenly; "If you two ladies are gunna have a chat about yur feelings, I'm gunna go hit the head" before storming off.

"He's been a little on the bitchy side all day. And for the life of me I do not know why." She shook her head a little, watching him walk away.

"Huh. Well if you don't know..."

"What, does Daryl have some deep dark secret that everybody knows but me?" She leaned in solemnly; "Rick? Is Daryl a werewolf?"

He gave a chuckle. "That's good. You know, he might as well be, as moody as he gets. But no, just another man who's having trouble figuring out how in head over heels he is."

"Wait, what?" She could have bored a hold in Rick, how hard she was looking at him. "Are you talking about me?"

He winked and gave her a little smile.

"Come on, spill it Rick. Give a girl a little help here."

"Aint' really none of my business, now is it? I'm just here to keep the drunks in line."

"That's right old man, just mind your business." Daryl had just popped out of the bathroom and was walking back towards them.

"Old man?" Rick scoffed; "We are just about the same age Dixon. You're the one robbing the cradle over here." He pointed with his thumb towards May.

"Shut up Rick." Daryl was getting that 'them's fighten' words' tone in his voice.

May let out a short laugh. "Jesus, I'm only about ten years younger than Daryl. It’s not like it’s a huge deal."

"Well there you go Daryl; I don't know why you make a big deal out of these things." Daryl shot him another look. "Now, what can I bring you?"

"Two beers and two burgers. And quit bein' an asshole."

"I'll start when you do Dixon. May, it’s been a pleasure. I have no idea what you see in this piece of road kill over here. I'll be right back with your food." Unlike Daryl, she laughed off Rick and thanked him. She took a moment and watched Daryl, elbows back on the table, one hand rubbing his beard. He looked cagey and nervous, like a man about to be interrogated for murder. She finally took pity on him and broke the silence.

"Well I see why you come here, Rick does seem like a nice guy."

"Nice guy my ass. You know, he used to be a cop."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I guess he quit after some shit with his wife cheatin' on him with some other dude he worked with."

"Jesus. That's fucked up."

He made a little snorting noise; scoffing at her statement.

"What?" She crossed her arms.

"It’s just the way it goes."

"Not for everybody. Not every woman is some conniving bitch."

"Most of the ones I've known are." He gave her a challenge with his eyes. Or was it a test? She felt like he had been testing her all day long.

She sighed. "You're right." His brow furrowed, unsure where she was going with this. "I have met more than my fair share of evil women. But I've known a lot of good for nothing, lazy, inconsiderate men too." She paused while Rick brought them over beers. She took a long drink off of hers before continuing. "I think it just comes down to finding good people. They are out there, and I'll be damned if I quit looking. Bad people have taken a lot from me in life Daryl, but I won’t let them take my hope."

He just could not figure her out. How did she take something so hostile, and just- make it beautiful? Everything she touched seemed to get better; even him. "Sorry I've been such an asshole." He couldn't look at her. Somehow her smile would just make it all worse again. 

"Jesus, its fine Daryl. You're allowed to a be an old grump. Just don't ride me too hard, huh? I'll try and cut you some slack, and you do the same for me?"

"Alright."

"Good. Because if you lost your temper and never came back, I don't know what I would do." She sighed again. 'Might as well put some cards on the table girl.' Her thoughts were tough but she tried to keep her tone light. "I've really come to rely on you Daryl. Honestly, I don't trust a lot of people. But I think I can really trust you."

"Are we going to start braiding each other's hair and writing in our diaries now?" He scoffed, a little smile on his face.

She wadded up a paper napkin and threw it at his chest. "Damn it Daryl we were having a moment."

Rick approached their table with plates. "Sorry to interrupt your moment there with your redneck Romeo, but the foods here and burning the shit out of my hands." He placed the food in front of them and started to walk away, but made a half turn to address Daryl again. "Next time you take a girl on a date- maybe not take her to roadhouse Daryl."

"Fuck you Rick." Daryl shot him the finger and began to eat, only glancing at May. She seemed to not be offended by Rick- and didn't contradict him either. He didn't talk about her that much, did he? So much to think about, and so much he didn't understand. They ate silently, but not uncomfortably. Daryl wolfed down all his food quickly, but May took her time. She dumped most of her fries on his empty plate, which he sheepishly dug into as well. He drove her to the local grocery, and true to her word she only left him waiting fifteen minutes for her outside. Then they headed home, slowly, Daryl taking his time driving around the back country before going up the mountain.

When they pulled up to the house she took the helmet off her head and smiled. "I'm going to need one of these. I will probably kill myself, but I need one."

They dismounted, and when he took off his helmet she was happy to see him smiling too. "I'm glad you had a good time. Not every girl is down with riding bikes."

"Well I had a blast." They walked into the house, and she gingerly shuffled off the heavy pack onto the counter. "Oh my god, it felt like flying- how could you not love that?"

He bellied up to the counter where she was unloading the food. "So, um, lights are still out."

"Yes..."

"So, um..." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'ma go get some clean clothes. If you still want me here."

"Daryl," she chided, "of course I want you here." She wiped her hands on her pants. "I'll walk with you over there, if you don't mind the company." He nodded, in his awkward way. She had slowly learned his language; a combination of flinches and looks that he used instead of words. He was bouncing a little on his feet, watching her put away food. 'Forecast calls for a happy Daryl with a hint of agitation.' she mused with a little laugh.

"What you laughen' at?"

"Nothing sweetheart. Just myself." She hadn't meant to call him that, anymore then how she called him sugar. But it was out now and bringing attention to it would only be more embarrassing. She looked around a little, then back to him. "Alright, let’s get going then. Not a lot of time left before the kids get home."

They walked slowly through the woods, his eyes cast down, hers up. He kept falling behind her, so she linked one arm around his. "Just in case you get any ideas about ditching me out here." He scoffed at her, but said nothing else, letting her arm rest in the crook of his. They didn't speak, but twice he stopped, pointing out birds in the trees. Every time she would smile and give his arm a little squeeze. He still didn't know what to do with all the gentleness. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't just touch her back. Jesus, he didn't even know how. He felt so stupid, a man his age should know how to deal with women. How to treat them the way they should be treated- the good ones anyway. May never seemed to mind though, hell she might even understand. The thought startled him, and in a way, lifted a little something off of him that he didn't know was giving him weight. He was still working on this thought when they came around his trailer. And were spotted by four large bikers.

They were after drugs. The drugs that Merle had, apparently, stolen from them after the robbery. They had roughed up Daryl a little when he hadn't produced any relevant information about the stolen goods. They had just one guy watching May, the barrel of a 45. pressed under her chin, and were about to break one of Daryl's fingers when she piped up, her voice steady and unaffected. 

"That's a strange thought process. Thinking that somehow more pain will produce what that black eye hasn't." One of the men was clearly calling the shots, and he turned to Daryl. 

"Interesting. Maybe we've been going at this all wrong." The two others held Daryl against the trailer, a hand over his mouth, his eyes darting around as he fought against them. The leader approached her, grabbing her cheeks until her lips pressed into a pucker. "We could have some real good times with this little filly. Wouldn't we honey?" Instead of fearful, her face remained passive, even board. He released her mouth, expecting pleas for mercy. He got none.

He was turning away from her when she piped up. "I stand by my statement. You're going about this all the wrong way."

He laughed in a way that didn't make her at all comfortable. "Continue."

"You're a business man. You don't have track marks on your arms, meth mouth, or any other visible sign of drug use so I'm assuming your mostly in it for the money. I get that. Merle took your shit and you want it back. Roughing up his brother may be fun, but it won’t get your product back. Anybody that knows the Dixon boys know that Merle is a shady prick and Daryl doesn't do drugs. He doesn't give a damn about any pills his brother has. You would be much better off getting someone to beat Merle's ass in jail then his brother's ass out here."

He got uncomfortably close to her, his eyes almost black. "But beating up his brother and raping their little friend will ensure that Merle gives me what I want. You understand?"

Her look was steady, but her voice a little exasperated. "You and I both know that Merle's going away for at least 15 years. Why wouldn't he just tell you where the drugs are? He can’t use them anyway- why would he give a shit?

"Well, well, well. That is the question of the day, isn't it? It’s something we've been asking ourselves as well. Our man on the inside said that old Merle has been giving him the cold shoulder- not a peep. And that's not a really good way to stay healthy in jail."

"Well then, it appears that we have a mutually beneficial situation here. Everybody knows Merle has a soft spot for woman, so Daryl and I'll speak to Merle for you and get the information you require. You, in turn, are gracious enough not to inflict anymore physical harm on myself or my companion."

He put a finger under her chin. “You are very well spoken- not the kind of whore that the Dixon's normally fuck." She kept her composure. "I might have to take you for myself."

"I really doubt you would want that."

He felt her breast. "And why do you say that. You seem pretty smart, and that's not a very smart thing to say."

She let a level of coldness settle over her features. "Because I'm a biter. And it won’t happen the first time you take me. Or the 20th. But I will bite."

"Oooo. She's gunna Lorana Bobbitt me boys!" The men all gave out a little chuckle.

She dropped her voice lower, her eyes dead on him. "Not your cock. I'll wait till you're asleep. I'll even make you think I've begun to enjoy it. Then I'll rip out your carotid artery with my teeth. It's not that hard, if you know where to bite."

He laughed, hauntingly at her. "I know it well. But what if I just break out all your pretty teeth? All the better to suck my dick."

"That's the problem though, isn't it? With women like me. Just too smart to handle. It will always be something. You would always have to keep an eye out for every opportunity I would have to hurt you. Because I would only need one chance."

"You have a point their baby. You're trouble all over, aren't cha?" He turned back to Daryl, still fighting against the two men holding him. "She's a handful. I actually feel a little sorry for you brother. Let em' both go." He turned back to May one last time. "Don't forget me honey. Because if you don't get my stuff, I'll be back- a Savage Son never forgets. And I would love to find a way to break you. And I would break you." He slapped her hard and she felt the inside of cheek rip on her own teeth. They kept a gun on Daryl until they mounted their bikes and rode off, leaving dust and horror in their wake.

She stood for a moment and let her eyes close, breathing deep. She could hear Daryl vaguely in the background cursing and kicking something. Then he turned his rage on her, his face now inches from hers. "...and what the fuck was that all about huh? Goddamn stupid cunt. That dude Bleeker, he wouldn't have just raped you ya know. He would have spent hours with you- days even. Here I thought you were a hell of a lot smarter than that. You should have just let me handle it. Now you're on their radar, now they expect you. What the fuck is wrong with you..."

Her voice was quiet and steady. "I made us valuable to them."

"What did you say? Are you trying to justify...”?

"I SAVED OUR LIVES DARYL!" She screamed with such force that he took several steps back, the shock evident on his face. "DAMN IT!" She ran her hands through her hair, her heart still beating so fast she could barely hear anything else. "Fuck this" she whispered, and stormed off into the woods.

He didn't know what had just happened inside her head, but he could recognize the signs of someone snapping. He paused for only a moment, deciding that whatever she was going to do to cope, it couldn't be very good. She didn't get far. He found her down the path, beating her fist against a tree. He threw himself at her, holding her arms from behind. "Damn it woman, what's wrong with you! Calm down, calm the fuck down!" He had to wrestle her, and she fought him hard. Finally, he got her turned around facing him; her eyes feral and deadly.

"What the fuck do you care you son of a bitch? I took care of it. It’s what I do. You think you're the only one with a criminal past? The only one who did things they aren't proud of just to stay alive? Men like that are wild fucking animals who follow whoever's in charge. So I took charge. Which seems to have fucking offended you. So what the fuck do you care if I'm out here blowing off some steam? I'm just a stupid fucking cunt right?"

He wouldn't look at her, just growled and rubbed his hands over his face. She turned around and hit the tree again, the skin on her middle knuckle finally splitting open, bloodying up her hand. She felt his fingers lightly brush her arm. She turned back around to see his eyes pleading with her. She leaned against the tree and slid down, her ass hitting the cold forest floor. He sat in front of her, his arms draped on his knees, staring at her bloody hand. Suddenly she let go inside, her oldest and best defense mechanism kicking in to protect her, as it had so many times before. Her gaze went long and her mind went quiet, like a factory full of machines shutting down. No thought, no focus. He looked at her face and recognized her look, the place where your mind goes when it can’t cope. He reached out with a tentative hand and wiped at the blood on her lip with his thumb. The slight contact brought her back a little and she looked into his eyes. He let his hand fall to her broken one, and touched it gently, asking; "Why?"

She laughed, a hollow empty thing that made his heart hurt. "I'll take physical pain over what's in my head any day." She rolled up her sleeve a little and showed him a white scar on her forearm. "I gave myself this when my father blew his brains out." She pulled up her pants leg and showed him her shin, with another long thin line. "This one I don't even really remember how I got. I remember something about my mother being drunk and throwing shit at me. The rest is just a fog in my head." She rubbed her hand over her eyes, the adrenaline slowly running out of her body. "I never tried to kill myself. For me it’s always been the opposite. The pain keeps me focused- keeps me alive. I know it doesn't make any sense. And I know you're probably thinking I'm creepy and gross..." He let go of her hand and pulled his shirt over his head, letting her see him. He kept his eyes lowered and didn't say a word, but she understood- what it took to show someone else the scars. Someone who really knew what they meant. She stood up, running her hands over him. The little divots from cigarettes, the thick welts from a belt.

She leaned on her knees in front of him, pulling his shirt back down, her voice low. "So I see I'm not the only one with battle wounds. Aren't we a pair?" She ran her fingers through his hair, his face still lowered. She leaned over, wrapping her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his hair. "We are gunna' figure this thing out, you and I. Don't you worry. I've gotten out of worse than this. We both have."

He looked up at her, that beautiful face that he had come to trust. "I'm sorry I called you all them names. I didn't mean it."

She brushed his hair back and smiled weakly. "I know sweetheart. But I appreciate you saying it." She thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he let his forehead softly connect with hers.

They stayed that way for a moment, until she pulled away, kissing him on the forehead before letting him go. "Come on, let’s go get your clothes." He gave her shaky nod and followed her lead when she grabbed his hand and led him back to the trailer.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"No offence Daryl, but this place is a shit hole." She had followed him inside, much to his displeasure. He walked back towards his room, and still she followed.

"Don't touch nothin'. I got my ammo and my bolts just where I want em'. She had been eyeing his table full of odd and ends where he crafted bullets and arrows. Much to his growing horror, she opted to lay down on his bed while he shoved things into his pack. "That things dirty, you shouldn't be on it" he growled, frowning.

"It’s a bed, not a garbage heap. Just hurry up." She started flipping through an old issue of Guns and Ammo, and he prayed she wouldn't find the old Playboy under his pillow.

He finished pulling together a bag and they set off back toward the house. He lit a cigarette, and to his surprise she took one from him. "I quit when I found out I was pregnant the first time. Not a day goes by I don't think about smoking again. I think I need this."

"So you got a record huh? I didn't think they would let you work at a court house with a record." He lit it for her and she took slowly took a drag, enjoying the lightheaded feeling for a moment before responding.

"Nope, not a thing. Not even a parking ticket."

"Wait, what? But you said..." He snarled, bearing teeth.

"Oh I've committed crimes. A little theft, but mostly small time smuggling and drug sales."

"But no fuckin' record? No fuckin way."

"Oh I was lucky. And I kept it all small time; just enough to pay for food and rent while I was in school." He noticed that she wouldn't look at him, though her tone was even. "I cut out before I got too serious into it. The guy I worked for wanted to keep me, since I was smart and could think on my feet. And it was a hell of a lot better than becoming a call girl.

"Why'd ya quit then?"

"It never felt- right. But I did it anyway. I was a selfish bitch with a chip on my shoulder. I thought the rich kids with cash to burn for Molly and Weed owed it to me. And all I could think of was that I wanted what they had." She gave him a tight smile and finished her cigarette. He didn't think she lied to him- but he wasn't sure he was getting the whole truth either. But after the day they had he was willing to let it go. Too much truth all at once can rub you raw, and the two of them had had enough to make them feel a little extra tender with one another.

When they got in the house he helped her bandage her hand, and she gave him the last of the ice to put on his eye. The boys noticed the injuries when they got home, but she played it off well enough as a small bike accident. Daryl cooked again, still relishing in his usefulness, but he was solemn and spoke even less than usual. Then the boys got their first wash tub bath in the kitchen, which resulted in a massive amount of clean up and a good time all round. Between the daytime sun, and the fire running all day, May declared that the boys room was warm enough to sleep in. By the time they got the beds made, and the boys to sleep, May was exhausted but eager for a bath herself. Daryl helped her fill the basin with hot water from the stove, and was about to leave her alone to bathe, but she started talking to him.

"So. You have any ideas about what we're gunna do?"

"I'm gunna go talk to Merle and figure this thing out. I'm not gunna..." While he was speaking, May had gotten on her knees over the tub of steaming water, whipped off her shirt, and started wetting her hair to wash. He turned around quickly. "Damn it woman, don't you got no shame?"

"Daryl, at your age I'm pretty sure you've seen a pair of tits before. I haven't got anything special going on here." She poured shampoo on her head and started to work it through her long, thick hair.

He turned and looked a little over his shoulder. 'I really have to fucking disagree with that'; he thought, his eyes roaming over the curves of her thighs and ass. And while he couldn't see them while she was bent over, he knew he knew he wouldn't be forgetting the flash of her perky breasts, encased in a lacey white bra.

"Oh, and by the way;" she continued, "we will both go talk to him. I want to hear exactly what he has to say for himself. I assume that you really don't have any idea what those guys were talking about, right?"

"Uh, yeah, no. Nuthin'."

"Then let me go. He's your family, and I respect that but it’s my ass on the line here too."

His voice was soft. "Don' you trust me?"

"Trust you to what?"

"Take care of...it?" She could feel the weight in his words. He wanted her to trust him with them; the family.

"I do trust you. Or else I would have just barged over to the jail by myself. But I need you to trust me too...Damn it... would you help me with this?" She held up a plastic cup. "I can’t see what I'm doing and I need to rinse my hair."

He took the cup out of her hands. She felt his gentle fingers on the back of her neck, wiping up soap and loose strands. With one hand he poured the warm water, the other gently rubbing her head. She tried to hold it in, but a little moan escaped her lips, causing his to completely halt.

"I shouldn't be doin' this..."

"No! No don't stop. Sorry, that just felt really good."

She could hear the scowl in his voice. "It's just wash water. Jesus, you really enjoy bathing that much?"

She chuckled. "Yeah I guess I do."

He resumed the water pouring, much to her pleasure. "I wouldn't really know. I haven't really lived with a woman since I was 8."

"Was that your mom?

"Yeah." She didn't press him for more details. He gave what he gave, and she worked with it.

"Alright. You're done."

She rung out her hair, sat up, and worked it dry with the towel she had left on the floor. Her lips curled, and let out a dry little laugh. "I wonder sometimes when you'll get tired of us and all the shit we put you through."

He was sitting on the floor, shirt wet, a little grin on his face; which he tried to cover with one hand. He kept scanning her body with darting looks. Her nipples were hard from the cold, almost completely visible through the soaked fabric. Little goose bumps rose all over her wet skin, and the candles cast light and shadow across the moisture.

He cleared his throat a little. "Shit, I aint' goin' nowhere. I don't cut and run on people."

"You sure? A single mom, two kids, that's a lot of baggage..."

He growled at her. "Hey. That's enough. I aint' goin' nowhere. That's final."

She smiled at him. "Alright then. I heard ya. Now skedaddle. Unless you want to watch me take the rest of my bath?"

He rubbed his nose, trying to hide the shit eating grin on his face. "You're dirty" he mumbled, walking past her and into the downstairs bath room, grabbing a jug of water on his way. She winced, knowing his bath would be ice cold. Ten minutes later he came back out, giving a brief glance towards the kitchen, confirming that May was still there bathing. He felt better- the ice water had mostly taken the lust out of him, putting him back in a clear frame of mind. His own mental dialogue wouldn't let him accept it, but her words had been pretty clear. She wanted him to stay. He didn't know why, and that was the part that frustrated him. Clearly she must want something; but what? He had nothing to offer. He had no money, no education, no real job. And he was pushing 50; his body would not be able to do heavy labor for much longer. He wasn't handsome... the list in his head went on and on, an old list of faults and tragedies; things that could never be and things that could never be undone. So it alluded him, as he sat in front of the wood stove, watching the wood burn to ash. All he knew is that he couldn't lose her. That everything good, everything his life might still be, was all wrapped up in her.

She didn't sneak up on him, but when she touched his shoulder he flinched. He looked up, and her head tilted to the side. She held her silky robe closed as she sat next to him. "You ok?" She always seemed to be worrying about him, checking on him, making sure he was alright. Why? If only he was a little smarter, maybe he could figure her out. But he wasn't. He was just an old fucked up redneck whose brother brought a bunch of blood thirsty bikers to her doorstep.

"I can see you thinking about something. What's going on in your head?" She stared at him and he could barely even look at her right now; all creamy skin poking out of that thin crimson material.

"Nuthin'. Why don' you go on to bed? I'll clean up down here."

"Damn it Daryl." She reached over and gripped his chin, pulling up his face to meet her eyes. "I try not to nag you, or ride you to talk. I know you move at your own speed, and that's ok. I wouldn't change you for the world. But goddamn it sometimes..."

"What?" He licked his lips and that did it. She leaned forward, one crooked finger still under his chin, and kissed him gently. He stayed frozen, arms wrapped around his knees. "Wha's that for?"

"Because I'm one hundred percent sure you never would have. Was I wrong? Because if you didn't like it..."

He cut her off. "No...I...it’s fine."

"You didn't really answer my question. Did you like it?" He nodded, chewing the shit out of his fingernails. "May I do it again sometime?"

"Yeah. I guess. If you want."

She chuckled; "Not getting a lot of enthusiasm from you Daryl. It’s alright, I can leave you alone and we would never have to talk about it again." She felt like her heart had just fallen into her guts. Hadn't she been reading him right- shy but willing? He leaned toward her slowly, and placed his hand on her cheek. He pulled forward, then back, as if waiting for her to say no. She reached out and pulled him forward by the collar of his shirt, finally closing the gap. But he still seemed stiff, leaving her to do most of the kissing. She broke away after a moment, gripping his chin to keep him from looking down. "I have been waiting for that for a very long time."

"Shit ya' coulda' tol' me. You aint' exactly a chore to look at ya' know."

"Well thank you. I feel the same." She let go of his chin. His hand dropped quickly from her cheek and his gaze dropped to the floor. She stood up, adjusting the robe around her, shifting on her feet. It all felt so bungled; did he really feel something? Was he just reciprocating out of kindness, to make the whole thing less awkward? She was normally so good at reading people, but trying to understand Daryl felt like trying to read Shakespeare backwards. She swallowed, trying not to let her internal barricade of doubt keep her in suspense. "You know I mean it right?" She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, her lips lingering near his ear. "I'm pretty sweet on you Daryl, I just hope you feel something for me too."

She pulled away and turned towards the stairs when she heard him give a little 'hey' towards her. She turned, and he grabbed her by the biceps. "I do... I just..." Instead of finishing his sentence, he pulled her into a soft kiss. His hands raised, gently gripping her face. He deepened it a little, their tongues brushing gracefully, but it didn't last long; he broke away after a moment with a sheepish look on his face.

She gave him a little smile. "That's all I wanted to know." He smiled back, slightly, dropping his gaze yet again, along with his grip. "Good night sweetheart" she whispered.

"Night'."

She turned and went up the stairs, leaving him standing there feeling intimidated and amazed. He built up the fire again and picked up the room before laying down on the couch. He didn't sleep for a long while, alternating between fear and excitement as to what it all meant, and how to keep it all going.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

May woke up with a start, realizing she should have been up fifteen minutes’ prior. She bolted for the boy’s room, but heard them downstairs laughing. She made sure her nightgown wasn't riding up, then headed downstairs. The boys were dressed, sitting at the table eating pancakes, being rowdy.

Hap started shouting when he saw her. "Mama! Daryl made pancakes! Yours are on the counter."

"Can we have lunch money today?" Alfie piped up; "Its pizza day, and..."

She sat and ate with them for a moment, before getting herself dressed and getting the boys off to school. When she got back, Daryl was in the same spot, straddling his chair backwards at the table. She sat down across from him with her coffee. "So," she said firmly; "how would you feel about going to see Merle today?"

His arms wrapped around the back of the chair, hand covering part of his face. "Alright, I suppose."

She ran her fingers up and down her neck, her eyes boring into him. "Something's up your ass. I can tell." He kept drinking his coffee, not looking at her. "Thank you, by the way. For this morning. You took care of them like a champ."

"Was'nt nuthin."

"No, it’s something. Nobody knows better than I do how they can be, and that was the best morning we've had in a long time." She paused and took a drink. "You worried about what he's going to say?"

"Merle?" He made a sad little chuckle. "I'm always worried about what gunna come outa his mouth. He runs his trap like his life depends on it. And now he's gunna be gone- for fifteen fucking years."

She stood up, came around the table, and ran a hand down the back of his hair. "Oh sugar. If I could wave a magic wand and fix it all I would. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

He swiveled in the chair until he faced her, his fingers fidgeting together and his hair covering his eyes. She brought one hand up, brushing it to the side, and he smiled and looked away. 'He's like an old stray alley cat that I just want to pick up and squeeze the shit out of but I can’t because he'll scratch and bolt.' She thought with a little giggle.

"Why you always laughen at me?" His tone was light, but a little searching.

"Oh sugar, I am definitely not laughing at you." Her voice got a little softer and a little deeper. "I was just thinking ‘bout how handsome you are and it made me light headed."

He laughed; "I been accused of a lot of things in my life, but I ain’t never been called that."

"Well ain't I the lucky one then? To be the only woman in the state Georgia with the ability to see straight."

"Are you hittin on me?"

"Baby, if I hit on you any harder you'd be unconscious." They both laughed at that, and she took the momentum to move in even closer to him. She got one leg on either side of his hips, moved his hands, and sat her ass down on the chair between his legs. "That ok?" He nodded, wrapping his hands loosely around her back. "Because I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable..."

"No! I mean yeah. Whatever you want to do, I do too." She rested her forearms on his shoulders, and played with the short little hairs on the back of his neck. He shook his head. "I just don't- I just don't get it."

She slid her palms under his jaw and pushed his face up to look at her. "You're a good guy, with a handsome face, who I can rely on. That's kind of a rare combination." He laughed, looking down and away from her. "What? You think I'm corny?"

"Naw, it’s just..." he licked his lips and whispered; "...you scare the shit outta me."

She leaned over and kissed him, and this time he kissed her back. It felt like it had been forever to get here, to get something as small as a gentle kiss or a soft touch. But she knew it was worth it, pulling him out of his shell slowly, like a wild bird eating out of her hand. His fingers were resting on her hips, picking nervously at the seam of her pants. She ran her nails through his hair, willing him not to stop. They stayed that way for a minute, clinging to one another, until he pulled away. "If ya still want to go to the jail, we gotta go."

She moaned dramatically; "Oh my god Daryl, you're killing me here." She stood, and ran her hands over his broad shoulders. "But you're right. Besides, what would you think of me if I put out after only one date?"

"That I'ma lucky son of a bitch." He mumbled under his breath.

She giggled and hugged him, his face pressing into her breasts. "Damn it Daryl, where have you been all my life?" He was pretty sure he had never been as happy in that one moment, then he had been in his whole miserable existence. She leaned in and kissed the top of his head. "Come on tiger, let’s go and visit your brother."  
\----------------------------------------------  
An hour later they were sitting in the car, looking at the county jail house from its parking lot. Daryl wasn't happy to be going in, but May looked white as a sheet.

"You alright?" He looked at her from the driver's seat, his eyes working her over.

"Yeah. Just not my favorite place. Just the idea of being in there with all those bars- it makes my skin itch. Doesn't it to you?"

"Not no more. Just somethin' I got to do."

She ran her hands over her arms, despite the warmth of the day. "Well just looking at it makes me want to run the other way."

"Best get it over with then. Come on."

They had made it to the front door of the jail when May uttered a little 'shit' under her breath, and broke away to speak to a woman who was walking out. Daryl smoked a cigarette while he waited for her, watching the other woman give him little looks while they spoke. Finally, the other woman turned to leave and May rolled her eyes at him.

"What the fuck was that?" He barked, holding the door open for her.

"Jana, from the HR department. Has her head up everybody's ass."

"Huh. What'd she want?"

"To know if you were my new boyfriend." Daryl was left to ponder what that meant, as they were going into the security area. They got through with no issue, and were led to a room with a partition between the prisoners and their guests with dirty phones to speak through. They sat for several minutes while Merle was being brought down, Daryl a nail chewing mess. She leaned over, giving him the slightest squeeze on the knee that wasn't bouncing, and a small smile.

Merle was finally led in, orange jump suit and cuffs on. Him and Daryl picked up the line, but May didn't, letting Daryl call the shots as to how their discourse continued. But it was only a few seconds before Merle was knocking on the glass, gesturing for her to pick up the other receiver.

"Why hello Merle;" she purred, "you're looking well."

"And you're looking as fuck-able as I remember Marion. Or is it May? I'ma go with May since it’s what my little brother here calls you." She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh Darlina comes in here all the goddamn time, runin his mouth..."

"Damn it Merle what's your problem? We got serious shit to talk about." Daryl cut him off, clearly starting to lose his temper. Not that it made any difference to Merle.

"Now I tell you what, if you're a good girl- put money on my books, write me while I'm away, and send me naked pictures of yourself, I might just..."

She laughed, trying to interrupt his tirade. "I'm sorry Merle, but I'm already sweet on your brother."

"What? Him? He doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground, much less what to do with a fine piece of pussy like you."

Suddenly Daryl's fist came crashing into the partition in front of Merle's face. "I said to cut it the fuck out!" The guard shook his head, clearly not amused at the little outburst. May waived at the guard and he nodded. She pulled the phone away from her face and spoke to Daryl.

"Hey. You want me to go?"

"No, just... You know he's just going to get worse, right?"

Merle started tapping at the glass, getting a little annoyed at not being the center of attention. "Here, let me fix it. I think I have an idea." He looked at her askance. "You can get mad at me later if you want."

"May..." his tone was a little threatening, but it didn't stop her from picking the phone back up and turning to Merle with a smile.

"You know I like visiting you Merle, but I'm a little surprised at you- hitting on your own brother's girl like this."

Merle let out a deep laugh. "You and him? Fuck off. Daryl hasn't had a girlfriend since he was 23 years old."

"What do you want for proof? To just blow him here in the booth? Would that convince you?"

"Baby, I would pay to watch you lick a drain pipe. But it would take a lot more than a BJ to convince me. For starters, Daryl couldn't talk to a girl if his life depended on it."

She looked over at Daryl, hunched over and completely humiliated. He looked deflated, like every word Merle said took a little more out of him. "Merle, you can call me whatever names you want to. I doubt you have anything in your repertoire that I haven't heard before. But I'm going to ask that you refrain from shitting of Daryl while I'm around. Or so help me, I will be standing at those prison gates when you get out, and the very first moment of your freedom will be my shoe going straight up into your balls."

Daryl turned to her, barking; "Hey! What the hell?"

Merle, however, was laughing his ass off. "Goddamn it girl. If you weren't my brother's old lady I would tear you up." He smacked his lips. "Darlina aint gunna know what to do with you. You sure you don' wanna wait for ol' Merle?"

"You know I love you Merle, but I wouldn't fuck you if my pussy was on fire and your dick was made of ice."

Daryl pointed a finger at May. "That's enough. You know we ain’t got all day." She laughed and raised her hand in surrender and let him talk. "Merle yur’ boys came by, looking for their deer meat. From your last hunting trip. And their causin’ me all kinds a’ problems."

Merle had been laughing but he sobered up quickly. "You need me to wipe your ass for ya too little brother? You can’t handle a few rough necks?"

"It’s your goddamn fault Merle! Talk to your friends in there! Figure this the fuck out!"

"There ain’t nuthin’ to figure out." He ran a hand over his neck. "I ate it."

"All of it? Are you fucking kidding me right now? What the fuck?"

"Aright, settle down little brother. I got about a fourth left in the freezer. But yeah, the rest is gone." Daryl gave his brother a glare through the glass and Merle shrugged.

"I got bored."

Daryl dropped his phone back on the cradle, and rested his face in his hand. He felt so hopeless that he wasn't even sure that he could get back up out of his chair, much less save his- whatever she was to him. He heard May clear her throat next to him and address Merle.

"Merle? How about this. You tell your friends that you were selling it, but you were waiting for payment from the guy you gave it to. Ask for a couple of weeks for your guy to have the money. Can you do that?"

"May," Daryl grabbed her arm a little roughly. "What the fuck are you playin at here."

"It’s a hell of a lot easier to come up with money then that much deer meat." She growled through clenched teeth. Daryl picked the phone back up to hear Merle’s reply. 

"What's in it for me honey?" Merle offered back, a little sarcastically.

"For me taking care of the issue that you caused? Well there's always the health issue. I would hate for all the stress to cause you any... stabbing pains."

Merle looked at her through lidded eyes. "You ain't the little suburban house wifey I thought you were, are you honey?"

She ignored him. "You're gunna owe me a favor Merle. But I'm gunna keep you alive. Maybe even get you probation. We got a deal?"

"Why you gunna help old Merle? You really that sweet on my baby brother?"

"Apparently. Because otherwise I just would have called the cops and had your asshole friends arrested. But I think I have something worked out in my head. That will benefit us all."

"Alright, alright. Sure you do sweetheart. I'm sure you'll talk my lawyers' ear off about it. Now why don't you go wait outside while us men have a little chit chat. Go on now. Shake yur perky lil' ass outa here."

She got up and rolled her eyes as she left, trying not to ruminate on the fact that both men were probably watching her walk away. When she was gone, then Merle addressed his brother. "So, you really think she has a plan?"

"She's smart Merle. Crazy smart. And she ain't just some middle class bitch, she grew up like us."

"Like us huh?" He licked his lips, looking at the door she just passed through. "Well she's a long way from there now. And here we are still here. She may have been redneck before, but she's doin' pretty well now."

"No, man. You don't know her..."

"You gettin' soft on me boy? You gunna let a piece of pussy drag you around? You carry her purse too?"

"Shut the fuck up man, you don't know shit. I ain't some pussy whupped asshole."

"That's good to hear little brother. Because a woman like that, with a little bit of money, can be real good for us Dixons. Real good. You fuck her yet?"

"Fuck off man."

"A woman like that has a libido like a cat in heat. You can tell by the way she walks." He licked his lips again. "A woman like that needs a firm hand, someone to show her who's boss. You sure you gunna be able to handle that? After 24 years of sluts, whores, and ur old right hand?"

"Will you just focus on your own problems? Like those Savage Son mother fuckers who want to fuck you up?"

"I would much rather focus on your new little girlfriend there Darlina."

"Are you gunna do as she asked? Tell um someone else has their stuff?"

"Yeah I guess. It’s as good a plan as any. Hey, you got any cash on ya?"

"Yeah, I got twenty bucks I'll put on your books before I leave."

"That a boy. Hey, you gunna come to my hearing?"

"I suppose." He mumbled, sounding downtrodden.

"Oh, don't be sad for old Merle. I'll be out before you know it. And you'll come up and see me at the prison now, wont ya?"

"Yeah."

"Alright then, off you go. Oh, and make sure and give your girl a picture of me to look at when you fuck her. We want her to have a good time, right?" Merle grinned as Daryl slammed down the phone and flipped him the bird.

They were back out in the car when he finally asked her what the plan was. She was a little cagey, fearing that he wouldn't want to take so many risks, and she told him so. She gently took his hand as she spoke. "I trust you Daryl. I've let you into my home, my family." He nodded, other hand over his face. "So just trust me a little with this. I know how much that old sack of dicks means to you. That's kin, that's blood. Let me just talk to some people, see what they say. Alright?"

"Alright." He nodded, as she gently worked her fingers over his.

"Hey, after all this is over we should go somewhere. Somewhere in the Caribbean, with nothing but a shack, a beach, and a boat to fish in."

"That'd be nice." His free hand now picking nervously at the steering wheel cover. "Ya know, I ain't never left Georgia."

"Really?" He looked at her with those eyes, always ready for a fight or a heartbreak. She reached up and brushed his hair behind his ear. "Well then you are in for the experience of a lifetime. Soft white sand, warm water, cold beer, a little white bikini..." she smiled and batted her eyelashes. "And two screaming little boys who just want to set everything on fire that they can get their sticky little goddamn hands on. You will LOVE it."

He laughed and let go of her hand to start the car. 'Sounds like heaven to me.' He thought, squirreling away the fantasy for later; like a child with Halloween candy, hoping to make it last forever.

"Where to then?" he asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

"The public defender's office." She let out a deep sigh, and looked out the window, quiet for the rest of the drive.

She got the attorney's contact information from public defender's office, then went and visited them as well. Daryl sat in the car, waiting for her for almost an hour. When she came out she looked worn out and pissed. She got in the car, reclined the seat a little, and let out a deep sigh. "I hate lawyers Daryl. The whole flippin' bunch. All the fuckin' double talk and the argh..." She rubbed her eyes and sighed again.

He whispered, tentative. "How'd it go?"

"He'll put some gears in motion. Or I'll come back and ride his ass like hound on a fox."

"You ain’t got to do this May. I don't know what you’re thinkin' but just go to the cops, turn those other assholes in. Merle an' me, we'll find a way around this."

"No. I've never backed down from a fight and I'm not gunna start now." She patted him on the thigh. "Come on baby, let’s go home." He gave her one of his shaky nods and they headed back to the house. He spent the rest of the day outside on the roof repairing shingles before the next big storm. While alone with his thoughts he pounded out a plan of his own. Whatever May was up to she wasn't sharing all the details, but she did admit it involved law enforcement- which he didn't like at all. And neither would Merle. This, he thought, he could do for her; fix this mess and let her get on with her life. Late afternoon came by the time he was done, and when he came inside the house he noticed the lights had come back on. It was time to act on his plan.

He told May he would be gone for a few days out hunting wild Turkey for the end of the season, but would be back for Merle's hearing. She seemed a little disappointed at the news, and he felt bad for the little twinge of happiness it gave him. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her face buried in his chest, his arms around her; but he did know to move into it. It was like watching a trapeze act and understanding what was happening, but being fairly confident you could never reach that level of competency. She approached him before he could ruminate on it any longer, taking one of his hands in hers, giving him a little kiss between the knuckles. It felt so intimate that he had to look away.

"I'll miss you while you’re gone. Take care, alright?" She was using her deep throaty voice on him, the one that gave him the shivers. He got a nod out, and quick as a flash, put his hand behind her neck and gave her a quick kiss.

"I'll be back soon." He whispered, bolting for the door before his heart actually beat right out of his chest.

May felt a little heart broken, and more than a little confused about why turkey hunting was so important right at this very moment, but still resigned to helping Merle. After all, she had given her word. The hearing was for Wednesday, and she would need too light a fire under several asses to get the work done in time.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

May

WEDNESDAY

She loved to hear the clack of her high heels on the worn out tile floors, the sound ricocheting off the walls like rifle fire. She looked good today; low cut blouse, trousers cut tight to make her ass look fantastic, and she had even done up her hair. She had been chatting up the prosecutor all day long and finally he had agreed to the terms of the agreement- pulling the final piece of the law enforcement puzzle into place. She was walking him to the courtroom, all batting eyelashes and false giggles, when she saw Daryl on the bench outside. She gave the prosecutor a little smile, opened the door for him, and let it close; opting to walk over to the bench instead. She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips, looking at him like he was a naughty child.

Daryl was a slouching, foot bouncing, mess. He was clean, but his eyes were blood shot, puffy, and had dark circles. He couldn't look at her. He had seen her down the hall and could barely recognize her. She looked so different in her work clothes, so- expensive. And the man she was walking with looked like a smug little shit, short for a man and wearing a fancy suit, his black hair slicked to the side, unmoving. He decided that it was best to be on the offensive.

"That your new boyfriend? He looks like a real classy bitch. I bet he's spent a shit load on you already. How much huh? How much to crawl up your pussy?"

She crossed her arms. "Are you done?"

"Yeah..." he said, standing getting into her face. "I'm real fucking done."

"That..." She pointed towards the door. "...was John Alderwood. The prosecutor. For your brother's case. I've spent the last six days riding the ass of everyone who matters, trying to get him a break."

"We didn't ask you for this." He was close to shouting. "None of it! Nobody asked you to run around whoring yourself out, tryin' to buy favors. It aint' your concern!"

"Like hell it isn't, you obstinate jackass!"

"Why? Who died and left you in charge ya' bossy bitch!"

"In charge? You think I did all this just to be in charge?"

"Well why else would you have done it? Probably just gave you an excuse to be around yur' new fancy boyfriend in there."

"Because I'm falling-for-you!" She poked him in the chest with one finger "You! You loudmouthed, ill tempered, surly sack of dicks! Now get inside that courtroom before I have to shove my best pair of heels up your ass!" She pointed, fuming, at the door.

"Wait... you what?" His face scrunched up, confused.

"Never mind, court is starting and we can't be late!" She grabbed his arm. "Come on!"

They walked in at the same time the judge did and took a seat in the back. Sentencing hearings never took long and this one was no exception. Ten minutes later they were out of the courtroom, Daryl walking like a zombie in shocked silence. Merle did not get the fifteen years they were expecting; he’d gotten ten. With the option for probation after five years; with good behavior and treatment. It wasn't just unexpected; it was a goddamn miracle.

"How?" He mumbled to her in the hall. "How'd you do it?"

She kept her voice low, her eyes looking up and down the hall. "Not here. Later." He nodded and followed her down the hall. "So..." she turned to him. "...I have to go back to work. Will I see you later?" He nodded, still a little numb, his hands tucked protectively around his chest. They got to the front doors when a woman's voice called out across the rotunda.

"Hey girl! Dat him? Ya'll think you're gunna sneak him outa’ the building without trotten’ him past us?"

May closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. "Daryl? You got a minute?"

"Yeah, I guess."

She turned on her heal and headed to the front counter. There were three grey haired older women there, sitting behind a glass partition. "So, Daryl you know Carol."

Carol gave him a sweet smile. "Hey Daryl. Long time no see." He gave one of his awkward waves and a 'Hey', feeling confused and completely out of his element.

May went on, gesturing to the lady in the middle seat "This is Claudie. She hates everybody equally and makes sure we all know it on a daily basis."

Claudie lifted one of her skeletal fingers and scratched at her razor sharp collar bone. "Well look what we got here. A dyed in the wool country boy. And a damn fine one too- I sure wouldn' kick him out of bed for eaten' crackers."

May chucked; "Maybe so, maybe so. But he could start a fight in an empty house so I think you may want to hold off on any 'adoption' ideas you may have." She turned to give Daryl a dirty look, but his eyes were so far down cast that she could barely see his face.

The third woman piped up, loudly; "I did not call you over to have some polite conversation! I am here to look at your man candy."

"And this whore with a heart of gold is Gladis. Gladis, could you been a little more terrifying?"

She laughed loudly, her Lee press on working at the poof of her bouffant. "Oh girl you know that I'm just yankin' your chain. I'm not tryin' to hurt your beau's feelings."

Carol piped up in her soft voice. "Now Gladis you know he just got out of court. Let him be."

"I'll let him be. Husband number four." Proclaimed Claudie, cackling at her own joke.

"That's enough!" Stated May, moving between Daryl and the ladies field of vision.

Gladis shot back; "Oooo she is putting her foot down! And not an hour ago you was bitchen' your ass off about him breakin' your heart! You don't get it both ways girl!"

"Gladis! You know what's said among us girls’ stay’s private!" Carol sounded as threatening as a kitten. May appreciated it just the same.

"Alright! You got to meet him! Can he go now?" Begged May, clearly at her wits end.

"Go on now boy. Get home and do somethin' nice for our girl. She deserves it after worryin' about your sorry ass for nearly a week." Gladis waived her hand at him, then turned away to do some filing.

May turned to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't..."

He cut her off. "It's alright. I'll see you at home."

"Ok."

He turned to walk away when he heard the voice of Claudie echo across the hall. "Aint you gunna kiss her? Give us a little action Jackson!" He didn't even turn around, but flipped her the bird. "Oh, he is a feisty one! I like it. If ya'll ever break up..."

He heard May's voice as he was walking out the doors. "Fuck off Claudie, and keep it in your pants."  
\----------------------------------------------------  
She got home by 6:45, and drove up to see Daryl sitting on the front stoop surrounded by cigarette butts. He was fidgeting, smoking, and chewing his lips; a trifecta of anxiety. She got out of the car as a light sprinkle started to fall. She walked past him on the steps and unlocked the front door. "Well? You coming?" Her tone was normal, but inside she was holding in a lot of anger. 'Pull it together, breath, hear him out. Whatever he's let crawl up his ass this time he's got to let out himself.' She left the door open, kicked off her shoes, and threw her keys and bag on the couch.

"Where the boys at?" His voice came from the door way, timid, like he was ashamed.

"Spending the evening at a friend’s house. I'm lucky that they like her kids- she's a cheap babysitter." She headed for the stairway to the second floor. "There's food in the trunk of the car, would you bring it in while I change?"

"Yes Ma'm." He flinched, feeling foolish, and headed out to the car to bring in her bags. She took a little time upstairs to cool off, and by the time she got back downstairs he already had the groceries put away and her bag of takeout sitting on the kitchen table. But he stood back near the front door, as if fully prepared to be told to leave. She walked up and grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him to the table. "Sit down and eat with me." She scolded. "You look like you're about to pass out." He sat, but kept himself silent and wrapped up as a cocoon. She got them both a beer and sat, putting a styrophome container in front of each them. He downed the beer quickly, but did nothing else besides fidget. "Well if you aren't going to eat, you might as well talk. We both know you weren't turkey hunting. So spill the beans."

His thoughts pumped through his head like blood. She would hate him. This was it. It would be the loneliness, the boredom, the suffering, all over again. God, he just wanted to cry. To let it all out, the waves of misery and anguish that he had no words for; only the depth and breadth of his endless pain. But men didn't cry, and it would be all the worse if she saw him fall apart like that. 'No woman ever wants to see that. Nobody does'. But they would be safe; her and the boys. "You... arn't gunna be real happy with me." His voice was so low she could barely hear him. "I figured out what you was gunna do. I just didn't think you could pull it off."

"And what was it that you think I did?"

"You got Merle to flip on his guys. I don't know how you did it. Merle hates cops."

She leaned back in her chair. "Yeah, yeah he does. But he loves me." Daryl gave a dry little chuckle. "It wasn't easy, and I may have made him a few uncomfortable promises, but I got him to come around. I worked out a deal between the cops, Merle, and the prosecutor. Merle gets moved to a facility where his old buddies don't have a presence, and he gets his slap on the wrist." She took a drink off of her beer. "Your turn."

"I gave em’ the drugs and promised to do a job for um."

She leaned in again. "Excuse me."

"They told me Merle owed them about 40 grand for the drugs that were missing. They said I could work it off in kind if I knocked over another drug store. No more problems for you or Merle. They don't care about the two guys getten’ busted over Merle's deal, they aren't even full members yet, just prospects." He started chewing his thumb. "I ain't done the job yet though." He let out a long, raspy breath; he was ready for whatever she would throw at him. Except she threw nothing. She started to laugh. A deep, throaty laugh that echoed across the walls. Daryl felt so out of whack that he almost ran right out of the house and never looked back.

"I...ooohh." She leaned back, a large smile on her face. "You know what the condition was? The condition to get the police on board with my little plan in to influence the prosecutor? That I meet those bikers somewhere with the drugs so that the cops can catch some of the full members red handed." She started drinking her beer again, still chuckling a little at the absurdity of it all.

He rubbed his face roughly with his palms. "What? No! Damn it!"

"It’s ok. It’s gunna be alright..."

"No! No it aint! I fucked it up!" He stood up so fast that the chair fell over, fingers raking through his hair.

"Hey!" She barked at him. He hadn't heard her use such a commanding tone before and it got his attention. "Do not lose your cool. Do you understand me? We will find a way..."

"What the fuck are you even talking about? What fucking way? Merle's gunna loose his deal, and if those guys get caught their gunna be in the same jail as him- probably kill em'. And if they don't get their big arrest, those cops are gunna talk and those bikers...they...they're gunna know it was you..." He looked at her, so defeated. He righted the chair and sat back down again.

She spoke as matter of factually as possible, though she knew she didn't sound convincing. "I know. You thought Merle would never cave. You were protecting us- all of us. And I know this has turned into a shit show. But we have to work together on this. Please." She came around the table, turned him around, and gingerly sat in his lap. He shivered a little, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Daryl, I'm sorry I didn't tell you my whole plan. I should have trusted you. I'm sorry. I'm the one who fucked this all up" she whispered under her breath.

"No, don't you go taken all this on you. We both fucked up pretty well."

"Let's talk from now on, Hum?"

"Umph." He grunted, not knowing what else she may want to talk about, but feeling shitty enough already. He decided that a distraction was in order, and buried his face in her neck. "You looked real nice today. Fancy."

"Thanks. I tried to look my best." She wasn't sure, but she thought his nuzzling was working into a kiss along her jaw.

"For that asshole prosecutor?" He growled, and she felt his teeth graze her skin.

She giggled; "No. There's this hot guy I've been seeing who took off turkey hunting last week and I was hoping to see him again today."

"Do I know em?" He looked up and she got a whiff of his breath as he spoke.

"Daryl Dixon you smell like bourbon. Were you drinking before I got here?"

"Maybe. My old man always said ya should already be lit- if you think your old lady's gunna tear into ya."

She crossed her legs, leaning into him a little more. "So I'm your old lady now huh?"

"I guess. You been talkin’ about me like that to all your lady friends at work." He peeked up at her shyly from behind his long bangs.

"Oh you caught that did you? Well I told you I was sweet on you." She ran her fingers up the back of his neck into his hair. "So am I gunna have to get you drunk to make you frisky?"

"Naw, just keep wearin’ these stretchy black thangs. I can see every inch of you in em." He snapped the back of her yoga pants and her back straightened up at the contact.

"Oh my god, you are drunk aren't you? Jesus, did you think I was gunna freak out on you or something?" He gave that little nod, chewing his lips. She pulled his face back into her neck. "Nope. Sorry. Too fucking late for that. It’s going to take a lot more than a little miscommunication to get rid of me."

"You call that a little?" His fingers slipped under her outer thigh, while the other was wrapped around her waist. She could feel the wire of his whiskers against the soft hollow of her throat, and his hot breath against her jaw.

"Mmhum. We'll work it out. When you’re not compromised. Although I am enjoying compromised Daryl." His fingers made soft little patterns on her skin, and his tongue brushed her neck when he licked his lips. "Oh my god you’re driving me crazy."

"So there really wasn't nuthin’ between you and that guy?"

"Who? What? The prosecutor? No. I hate that guy."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's gross."

"I didn't lie to ya. I really did go turkey hunting. There's two in yur’ freezer."

"You always come through for us. Is that why you look as worn out and tired as you do?" He had actually spent the better part of the last six days wondering what the hell she really wanted from him, if he could give it to her, and how she would react when they finally had sex and he only lasted a minute and a half. When he decided that none of it would work out and that she would reject him completely, then he killed the two turkeys he'd been tracking and headed back home.

"Yeah, and I'm starving." He looked up at her lips when he said it, and she bent in to kiss him. His grip tightened on her thigh and his tongue dipped into her mouth. Liquor had always given him the confidence to pick up hookers, and he was glad it was serving him now too. But she pulled back after just a few moments. "Wha's wrong?" He realized he was slurring a little but he couldn't help it now.

"I only have half an hour before I have to pick up the kids. And you are drunk."

"So what?"

"So what? If I get to have you in bed, I want you at your best."

"Nah, but its better this way. All that other shit in my head goes away."

"But that's just it." She gave him a peck on the lips. "I want all that shit too. I like your baggage Daryl. I think we have a matching set." She smiled. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, I guess. But I won’t be as good."

"I think you'll do just fine." Her voice dropped a little. "The way you're stroking my thigh feels really good."

"Oh yeah?" His voice rumbled like an old car turning over.

"And the way you were nuzzling into my neck..." They kissed again, and the hand around her middle slowly worked upwards towards her breast. "Uh, oh god you feel so good. But..." He kissed her again, grabbing her breast at the same time, squeezing it roughly. It felt like getting man handled by her high school boyfriend all over again, but after a long dry spell it still felt pretty good. Finally, she pulled back again. "Ok, ok. Stop, you’re getting me all hot and we don't have time to finish."

"I could get you there... if ya want." He looked so bashful and shy, it was driving her crazy; much more so then what ever he was trying with her breast.

"No, I want lots of time with you. And lots of cuddling afterward."

"I'll fuck ya till I'm blue in the face, but I aint no cuddler." He sneared and scoffed.

"What? Just roll over and fall asleep?"

He cleared his throat. "The kinda' girls I'm use to don't really wanna stick around, you know?" She nodded. "They ain't got fancy clothes and pretty underthings..."

"You like pretty underthings?" He looked down quickly, but she could see one of his little half smiles break out before he could quash it again. She shifted her sitting position, her legs wrapped around his middle. "Because I've got lots of pretty things that nobody ever gets to see but me." She lifted up her shirt to show him the push up bra she wore. "You like this one?" He nodded, licking his lips. "Good. Because I think you would really like the nighty that goes with it. One hand shot up and grabbed her breast, working at the hard nipple under the lace with his thumb. "So I'll make you a deal. You cuddle with me after sex, and I'll get all dolled up extra nice for you. Sound good?" She rolled her hips a little, and he moaned at the friction.

"Oh shit, yeah... just do that again." She did, and the grip on her breast tightened. She could feel him shiver under her, and she knew anymore teasing would just be torture for them both. She held his face in her hands "Daryl, I have got to go and pick up the kids. I want you to stay here, eat some food, then go upstairs to my room and take a nap. I don't want those boys seeing you all drunk, ok?"

"You sure? In your bed?" He looked at her askance, and she smiled.

"Yes. Go sleep it off. We'll try not to wake you when we get home." There it was again. That strange feeling that she gave him where he thought maybe he had accidentally just wondered into someone else's life, like some weird sitcom. A nice house, great kids, a hot girl that wanted to fuck him as much as he wanted to fuck her. It couldn't be real, it just couldn't.

He looked at her with all the sincerity he could muster, his arms wrapping firmly around her middle. "I'll protect you ya know. You and the boys. With my life if I have ta. I won’t let nuthin’ bad happen. If those men come by..."

"Then we have you. I know we do." She kissed him gently again, before getting up and pulling herself together to leave. She turned to him from the front door on her way out. "Remember-nap. I don't want to come home and see you watching the cartoon network with your hand down your pants."

"Jesus woman, ya might as well be my old lady, the way you're ridin’ my ass. Get out of here already." He shooed her away with his hand and she left with a smile.

It was dark in the prison, with a silence like death. And the Georgia heat was sticking to him like napalm, keeping him awake. He headed down to the showers to cool off and try to forget the events of another traumatic day. But as he approached, he could hear the water already running. He knew the sound would mask his subtle foot falls, and he peeked in to see who it was. There was a woman, but in the darkness that was all he could make out- her shape and height were unfamiliar to him. He could see the water running little rivers over her curves in the moon light, and his dick thickened. He rubbed it through his pants, knowing it was wrong, watching her like this, but doing it anyway. His desperation for an orgasm overriding that feeling of shame that tickled at the back of his mind. He let his eyes flutter closed, and when he opened them, she was in front of him, about to touch his face. She kissed him, running her fingers through his hair, pulling him into her. So wet, so sweet...

He awoke suddenly, realizing quickly that he was still in May's room. Steam poured from under the bathroom door in her bedroom, and he realized how late it must be from the dark outside the window. His crotch ached terribly, and it occurred to him that he had almost had a wet dream. He reached down into his pants, feeling the cum already beginning to seep from the tip. 'Fuck it.', he thought, reaching for the tissues that she had beside the bed. He pulled up his t-shirt and jerked himself off in a minute flat, burying his nose in her pillow as he came, luxuriating in her scent accompanying his orgasm. He quickly wiped the cum off his stomach and cleaned up when he heard the water turn off in the shower. He rolled back over and played possum, waiting for her to come back in the room. He heard her move around, trying to be silent, drawers closing and opening. Finally, he felt her warm hand on his arm, and a kiss on his cheek. He opened his eyes to see her standing over him, wearing a little cotton night gown, hair still wet.

"Hello there sleeping beauty. I was surprised to see that you slept with all your clothes on."

He rolled onto his back, putting one arm under his head. "Not my bed. I took off my boots though." He nodded over to the corner where his beaten up pair of work boots lay sadly. "What time is it?"

She sat down next to him on the side of the bed, crossing her legs towards him. She winced a little, but he didn't see it. Her period had started earlier in the evening and the cramps were getting worse. "About ten in the evening. It took everything I had to keep the boys from coming up here. It was like you had gone off to war and come home, the way they were acting." He gave a little laugh, and looked down, hiding his smile. "I assumed you were going to sleep the night away. But I saw you laying here all curled up I couldn't stay away." His free hand came up, his fingers touching her knee lighter than a kitten's paw. "I want you to stay tonight." He looked up at her, his eyes dancing. "Just sleep. I'm, uh... I'm way too tired tonight."

He raised his voice to a falsetto; "Not tonight, I've got a headache." She gave him a very weak punch to the gut, and he responded by tickling her under the knee.

"No! Daryl I mean it! I'm ticklish, stop!" She grabbed his wrist, wrestling it away from her knee. "Are you still drunk?" she asked, her tone playful.

"Naw, just in a good mood." He gave her a real smile, and she pulled his captive arm around her waist. "My head is starten’ to thunder though, you got pain meds?"

She pulled a bottle of pills out of the side table, placing them next to a glass of water there. "I brought that up for you when I came to bed." He nodded, but did not move, his fingers fidgeting with the back of her nightgown. "I meant it, what I said. Please stay here tonight. I know I'm being silly..."

"Shut up. You know I don't mind sleepin’ on your couch."

"You could stay up here." Her hand came up, fiddling with them hem of his shirt. "In my room. I promise to keep my hands to myself." He rolled his eyes and made a little 'huh' of disbelief. "No I mean it. All of this has taken a lot out of me Daryl. I know I don't show it but..." she brought a hand up to her face as she fought back a little sob. He sat up quickly and awkwardly wrapped an arm around her and she started to cry.

"It's ok baby. It's gunna be alright. Shhhh..." He ran his hand over her wet hair and back, trying to sooth her. When she finally pulled herself together, she reached out from under his arms towards the nightstand.

"Damn it, where are my tissues?" He froze in sudden horror- he had put them back, hadn't he? She reached down and picked the box up from the floor with a shrug, taking one and wiping her nose. He let out an audible sigh of relief and kissed her on the forehead. She blubbered a little. "I'm sorry... I just... I guess I fell apart there for a minute. You can go if you want, no hard feelings- I mean it."

He chewed on his lips, feeling so many things at once that he didn't quite know how to separate them out. A part of him did want to leave, to let his anxiety rule him yet again and flee the situation, fear of the unknown twisting at his insides. But he knew he wouldn't- he couldn't. And that a growing part of him didn't even want to. "I'll stay." He mumbled, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself, wrapped all around her like he was. "You work tomorrow?" He knew the answer, and felt stupid asking, but didn't know what else to say.

She sniffled a little, wiping her nose again. "Yeah, so you'll have the house all to yourself." She laughed a little; "all the Cartoon Network you want."

"Naw, I'ma get started on them gutters out there, maybe lay some lines down and get started on a fence."

"That would be nice. Once we have a fence we can get a dog." She kissed his cheek, stood up, threw the tissue in the can, and got in on the other side of the bed. She rolled over towards him; "You going to sleep with all your clothes on? Not that I'm judging- it just seems a little uncomfortable."

He shrugged a little. "I ain't slept in a bed with a woman in over 20 years, so I don't really know what you expect of me."

"I expect you to snore, fart, and wake up with a partial erection. I also expect you will steal the blankets and get a little handsy but that's to be seen." She gave him a little smile, but he covered his face with embarrassment.

"Jesus woman, you really don't have no shame do you?"

"Not a lot, no. Just get comfortable Daryl. Relax."

'Feels more like being asked to walk through town naked to me.' He thought, wiping his palms on his pants. He stood up, and she turned over, facing the other way. He let out an inward sigh of relief, stripping down to his t-shirt and underwear. He normally slept naked, but the whole thing still felt so awkward that he just couldn't lose any more clothes and still be able to sleep. He took several of the aspirin, before laying down stiffly beside her. She rolled back over, eyes closed, and fell asleep. He watched her, from the moonlight coming in from the window, for the longest time; worried that the terror and the beauty of the moment would end if he closed his eyes. And when sleep finally came again, his dreams were mixed; an intangible mixture of forgotten sitcoms and the angry giants of his youth.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

THURSDAY

He awoke with the dawn, as he normally did, but everything else was a hodgepodge of strange and pleasurable. The perfect warmth of the room, the mattress, which was actually comfortable; the soft, sweet smelling bedding- and the tiny woman who was curled up around his back, her little hand clutching at his shirt. He could tell by her breathing that she was still asleep, and he was loath to wake her, but the need to pee was over riding everything else that was keeping him still. He got up as gently as he could, gingerly pulling his t-shirt out of her fingers, and covering her up with the light blanket. He headed for the bathroom with the lightest steps he could muster. He hadn't been in it before, and it was much as he expected a woman's bathroom to be; full of strange bottles and pretty towels on the rack. After he was done, he took a moment and smelled her shampoo bottle, smiling at the familiar scent. Then he crawled back into bed, laying on his side to face her.

He loved the little cotton nightgown she wore, so pretty and feminine in a way that he always imagined a woman dressed. He captured a little lace edging between two fingers, rubbing it to feel the softness. But it caught on his calluses, and he released it quickly. What would it be like, to make love to a really beautiful woman? Only one other woman he had ever had had been this pretty, and that was back in his early 20's. He had still been lean then, with harder muscles, more stamina. God he hated his body. Beyond the scars, there was a beer gut developing, softening of his arms into fat in places, his legs were too skinny, his one broke ass eye where he had been punched too many times. Jesus Christ, why was he even here? He reached up, caressing the un-brushed fluff of her morning hair with his knuckles. Girls like her, even when they grew up like him, ran as far away as possible when they got older. They got fancy jobs in big cities and probably talked to expensive shrinks about their fucked up childhoods. They lived in big, expensive houses with their husbands that played golf or some shit. Not some old, broken down excuse for a man. He needed to know. No more being a pussy ass coward, he needed to talk to her, know what she wanted. Before this, whatever it was, went any further. Before he fell even more... and he cut that thought in the bud. Her old life had done her wrong somehow, and for some reason she thought he could fix it. Maybe he could. Maybe it was all he could do. Maybe he would see her through whatever her problems were and then she really would be gone. He let out a deep sigh, digging his fingernail into his cuticle. Why weren’t woman ever easy? 'Because the easy ones cost $80 an hour and you pick them up behind the truck stop' he thought with a smile. The best ones were hard, and tough. They made you crazy and scared. The ones worth working for, they didn't just make you work for it for no reason, as he was learning fast. They made you work because you wanted too- because you suddenly wanted to be a better man. Maybe she would leave, but a growing voice inside him was thinking maybe she wouldn't. He flexed his fingers for a moment, then let his hand rest on her hip, before closing his eyes again and falling back asleep.

She awoke about ten minutes before her alarm was to go off, feeling hot and crampy. She moved her thighs together to make sure she didn't feel any wetness between her legs yet, and felt awash of relief that she remained dry. That was almost all the movement she could manage, as Daryl's arm had shifted around her, crushing her body to him in a vice grip. They were both on their sides, and she ventured a look up. All she could see was under his chin, where the skin was beginning to crape with age and was covered with early morning stubble. She wanted to reach up and run her fingers over the softening skin under his chin and up through his beard, but she knew it would weird him out. She understood it, what years - decades even- of being told that you were less than would do to you. That it became all you saw, everywhere, all the time. And when someone came along that didn't just tolerate your supposed 'flaws', but loved them, then it all just seemed insane. Or that it was just a new kind of pain, one you hadn't even thought of yet. It took a long time to recognize someone giving you a flower, when all you've ever been given was shit.

She wiggled one arm up around his middle, giving another little glance to the clock on the wall to check the time. He stirred, and pulled her even closer, leaving her little room to breathe. Now she could barely even move her head, her face was crushed against his chest so tightly. She used her free hand to run down to his backside, giving it a little squeeze. She felt his face nuzzle into her hair and he mumbled sleepily; "Five more minutes." At least she thought that's what he said, she was pretty sure he was still mostly asleep.

She kept her voice soft, gently stroking his back; "Sweetheart, I'm going to..."

"Goddamn angel." Then he snored, and settled back into her hair again.

That took her aback. She smiled, letting him cuddle her in his sleep; probably the only time he felt fully comfortable with her. She watched the clock tick down, running her hand over the little of him she could touch from her position. Not all of him was rough skin, the dip of his lower back was soft, and she came back to it again and again; loving the idea that this little part of him was a place that only she knew about. That this little valley of softness was hers and hers alone.

Finally, her alarm went off, and he rolled away, wiping his hands over his eyes. "Ugh, turn that fuckin thing off."

She chuckled, rolling over to her side to shut off the alarm. "How'd you sleep?"

He looked at her a little sideways. "Alright, I guess. Considerin' you were crowden' me all night. Thought you were gunna keep your hands to yourself."

She came up and kissed him on the forehead, saying; "Sorry angel, I'll try harder next time." Before walking to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

He suddenly felt a little abashed. He had been having a very vivid dream about finding her in the woods, and she had called him angel because of the wings on his vest. He shook his head to himself. No way, it was just a dream- it’s not like she could read his mind or anything. He heard the kids starting to make a racket, and got himself dressed to start making breakfast. The boys never said a word about Daryl coming out of their mother's room, they were just happy to see him again. What they were excited about was a carnival being in town; and trying to get their mother to take them. She acquiesced to going that Friday, in order to get them to finish eating and get ready.

Daryl noticed her moving slower and stiffer, as if in pain, but didn't know how to ask what was wrong. When he saw her take six of the extra strength pills he finally figured he needed to do something or she was going to fall over dead and he would have to watch. He pulled her into the kitchen by her bicep when the boys finally ran upstairs to finish getting dressed.

"You shouldn't go to work today." He growled at her, under his breath.

"And why the hell not?" She wasn't quite sure what he was talking about and felt a little perturbed.

"I can tell ur in pain. I don't know what's wrong, but you need to take care of urself."

She laughed, and he frowned at her; what the fuck was wrong with this woman? "Oh Daryl. It’s just my period, I'll be fine."

His face scrunched up. "But you look like death."

She smiled, trying to keep her sarcasm in check; "Thanks. But I'll be fine. I have this thing where I get really bad periods. I feel like I've been in a car accident all day, but they are really short- only two or three days long." He looked really uncomfortable. "End of lecture. I'll be right as rain by Saturday or Sunday at the latest."

"Is it always..." he waived his hand at her. "I mean... you look all pale and wobbly, and you look dead tired. Like you got the flu."

"Sometimes are worse than others. Don't worry about it, I've been handling Endometriosis since I was a kid, I got this covered." Suddenly the boys were back downstairs like a whirlwind of monster truck backpacks and half tied shoes. "I want you both in the car in under five minutes. Go, now." She turned back to see him chewing on his lips. "I don't suppose I could count on you to handle dinner tonight? There's extra cash in the cookie jar if you want to get some takeout. I just know I'm going to be beat by the end of the day..."

"Naw, its fine, just get on out of here before the boys steal the car."

"Fair enough." She gathered her things and headed for the door, silently thanking whatever god there was that he hadn't made this anymore awkward than she already felt about it. Intellectually she knew having a period was nothing to be ashamed about, per-se. But it still helped that he didn't freak out or act disgusted by her. Of course inside Daryl was a very different animal then outside Daryl. Inside he was a mess of embarrassment, half thought out questions, and the voice of Merle making fun of the whole shebang.

He had worked most of the day away working on the huge backyard fence. With just him working, and no post hole digger other than himself, it would take him at least a week and a half to get the job done. He went into town to order lumber, and stopped by Ricks to have a beer and the world’s most awkward conversation about 'what to do about a woman on her thang'. Rick set him up with several large cheeseburgers, a marginally nice bottle of wine, and directions to a bakery where Lori liked the chocolate cupcakes. His final words were a warning to absolutely, under pain of death, not to mention that he had gone to the bar and talked to his buddy about her period.

"They get really funny about it man. Take my advice. Tell her you Googled it or some shit, but just don't tell her you talked to me about it. She will, I guarantee, loose her shit about it."

She did not, however, loose her shit. He tried to lie to her. But he had the hardest time just talking to her, much less getting creative with the truth. They had finished dinner, and she had just settled down with her first glass of wine after putting the boys to bed. She sat on the couch watching TV, as he came into her line of sight.

"Uh, May?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" He was nervously drying his hands over and over again, after insisting on washing the dishes himself.

"I... uh. Well I got you somethin’. I just don wan ya to be mad at me."

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Why would I be mad? If it’s a gift?"

"Well I don't, I mean, I wouldn't want you thinkin' I was implyin'... oh jesus I don't know woman." He stomped back towards the kitchen in a huff and came back with a little pink box. "Here, just open the fucking thing."

She took it from him, and gave him a quick glance under her eyelashes before opening it. He looked like he was about to chew his own thumb off. She opened the lid and inside was a beautiful little chocolate cake, small enough to fit in her hand. "I don't, I mean I heard... don't woman like chocolate? You know, when they... you know..." He was red all down his face and chest, his eyes cast down to the floor.

"Oh my god Daryl, this looks amazing. Where did you find a bakery around these parts that could make something like this?"

"Well... I, oh." He ran his hands over his face. "I'm not..." He sounded a little scared. "I ain't suppose ta’ say."

She chuckled. "Oh well now I have to know. Come on, what’s with the secrecy?"

"Please don’ make me. You’re gunna be so mad."

She stood up, placing the cake on the table. Her voice was the same one she used when the boys were confessing to something. "Now Daryl." She ran her hands over his arms. "I won’t be mad. I just don't understand what all the fuss over a bakery is."

"You won’t be mad?"

"No."

"I didn't... I didn't know what to do. With you. And... your thing. So I asked Rick. And he told me that's where he got stuff for Lori, when they was still married, that that's the kind of thing a good guy would do. But I wasn't supposed to say nuthin', cause you would get all upset with me for talkin' about it with another guy." He was almost a foot taller than her but he looked like a sad little boy that had gotten caught lighting firecrackers where he wasn't supposed to. She couldn't help but chuckle a little at the whole thing.

"Oh baby, I'm not mad." She pulled him into her arms. "Come here you sweet man." He wrapped his arms around her neck as she went for his middle.

"So you really ain’t mad?"

"I wouldn't go talking about my period to anyone else. But this time no. Your heart was in the right place. And you brought me a bacon cheeseburger, a bottle of wine, and a fucking cake; so I really don't have much to complain about." She pulled him down and gave him a little kiss. He grinned, like he knew he did good, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Now I'm going to go get my pajamas on, then I'm going to come back down here, and we are going to drink and eat that cake. Alright?" She got that bossy little tone in her voice, and he loved it.

"Yes Ma'm. But I'ma drink a beer- not exactly a wine kind of guy."

"You can drink whatever you like if you keep bringing me chocolate."

'I'd rather be drinkin’ you.' He thought, grinning a little, his head bobbed down again.

"Sometimes I wonder what's going through that head of yours" she continued, lightly. She gave him a chaste little kiss on the lips and went upstairs to change. When she got back downstairs he was on the couch, stocking feet propped up on the coffee table, beer in his hand. She put in a movie and started in on her cake, feeding him little bites from her fork; which he took with shy glances and quick lips. But he was also shifty, peeling strips of label off of one beer, then another; casting glances at her every so often.

She paused the movie suddenly, turning to Daryl. "Sugar?" She whispered; "You seem a little twitchy." He scoffed. "Twitchier than usual."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. He kept his eyes glued to the television screen where a young woman was about to be attacked by a werewolf.

"Is it the movie? Because I can put in the zombie one I have instead..."

"No! I mean, its fine...I just...Its nuthin."

"You know Daryl; we haven't known each other long. And you are just about as inscrutable as the Sphinx. But even I can tell that something is twisting at you." He shot her a look, almost pleading. "And I know that you would probably rather be shot in the knee than have a conversation. But there is something going on inside your head that has almost broken through that barrier, and that tells me that it’s something important to you. Which means..." she reached over and held his free hand. "... that is important to me. I won’t judge you Daryl. Is it this issue with your brother?"

He shook his head with a little grunt. He didn't understand several of the words she had used, but he understood the meaning. He didn't want to make her mad, but he needed to know, for himself.

"Just try sugar. I know it’s hard, since your such an introvert..."

He sneered at her "I'm a what?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter; you can google it later. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just a personality type. I'm an introvert too, just not nearly as much as you." He gave her a little head nod and made himself a little mental note about it for later. "Daryl, please. Whatever it is, I won’t be mad." He gave her a sideways glance and she took a drink. "Ok, I probably won’t be mad. And I really just want to finish this movie, even though I've seen it eight million times."

"You really like Werewolves that much?"

"I do. I've always had a taste for wild things." She gave him a big shit eating grin, and he looked away with a tiny smile.

"It's just... you talk a lot about bein' a kid and stuff before commin' here. But you hardly ever, ya know, talk about him." She shook her head and shrugged. He sighed. "You know... yur husband. I guess... I don’ know. You had money, a big ass house, all that shit; but I know you weren't happy..."

She knew what he was asking. He thought she had everything a woman could want, so what had that other guy done to fuck it all up so badly? She pulled his hand up, and kissed him gently on the fingers. "It took me a long time to get away from my childhood. A lot of work. Schooling, but also learning things on my own that other kids in fancy homes already knew. I worked so hard at it, that when I met someone who made a lot of money, and I told myself that nothing else mattered. That my kids would grow up with every advantage that I never had, that was all that mattered." She slowly started petting at his hand as it sat in her lap, more to sooth herself then him. She took a deep sigh. "I had a big house in the suburbs, played tennis, and went to dinner parties."

She turned to him, rubbing his beard, looking down, but listening intently. "And you know what Daryl?" He grunted, unmoving. "I hated every fucking minute of it. All of it, the people, the animals, the streets, the shops, all of it, was fake. It’s like those people live in a theme park based on money and elitism. I would try to talk with people about real things, like the environment or poverty and they would look at me like I had two heads. If I had one more discussion about the Kardashians I was going to blow my fucking head off." That got her a chuckle.

"And my husband? He wasn't as much of a man as I had hoped I would get. He would sit watching sports, or bitch endlessly about his office. That's it. Years and years of a one-sided conversation. If the kids needed something, I handled it. If something broke, I fixed it. I paid the bills, kept the house, and worked every day. And if I dared to complain, or try to talk about myself, I would get railroaded about how sensitive I was being. He could be a real smooth talker, a charmer, when he wanted to be. But then he would change on a dime. Little quips about my weight, or how what I was doing was wrong or embarrassing. No matter what I did, I was never quite good enough. He never hit me, but he always knew just what to say to keep me in line." She paused, taking another drink of her wine, then continued; leaving the glass on the coffee table. "He was hit by another car on the freeway. It was raining and the other guy was a little drunk. Part of me knows I should have cried when he died, but I never did. And I'll be damned if I ever will."

He pulled his hand out of hers, and gently wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into his chest. "I had been looking at farms for sale on a lark. I kept looking at this one, all broken down and clearly unwanted. When I saw a job opening at the court I jumped for it, didn't think I would get it. But I did. And here I am..." she swept her arm around at the room "...in my dream home, that is falling down around my ears. With a good man who doesn't treat me like an ignorant piece of trash. And I'm... learning to make friends; mostly with my ladies at work. Unless the boss is around, and then we have to stop with the dick jokes. He hates dick jokes. Does that answer your question?"

He nodded and grunted again, then gave her a little kiss on her head. "So, since we're on the topic of uncomfortable situations, can I ask you a question?"

She heard him swallow before replying; "I suppose."

"Why have you never dated another woman since your 20's?" She felt him go stiff around her, and he shifted in his seat. She chewed on her lips for a moment, unsure how to continue. "I'm sorry, it’s just that you hardly ever talk about yourself."

"Ain't really nuthin' to say. Most of my life's been followin' Merle's lead and tryin' to keep his ass out a hot water. I wasn't nobody. Never been anybody that woman be willin' ta date."

"But there must have been woman through the years..."

"Trashy waitresses, bar flies. Only ever good for a one night stand or hungry enough to have me buy um a meal."

"You're telling me nobody ever wanted to date you? I find that really fucking hard to believe."

"S'true. Nobody ever cared to pick me apart like you did. Sept..." He let the word trail off.

"So you have had a girlfriend before." She chewed at her lip, uncertain that she wanted the answer.

He shook his head and finished off his second beer. "Was a long time ago. Don't even matter now."

"Well why not?"

"She's dead." He spoke so softly that she barely even heard him.

"If you don't want to tell me, it’s alright."

"No, I guess..." he sighed again. "Her name was Beth. You two would have liked each other. Woulda’ been friends. Two of ya look totally different though; she was skinny as a rail and had yellow hair. I was always buyin' her milkshakes, tryin' to get her ta thicken up a little. She was my first, ya know? First girlfriend, first lay."

He rubbed his nose, and perhaps his eye as well; she couldn't tell, she tried to look away to make him feel less awkward. "I was 22, she was 19 when we met. Only dated for about a year. Her family hated me, but she didn't care none. She was... light. Happy. She was always singin' and laughin'. I don't..." He paused and sniffed his nose. "Anyway, we was at a party and got in this big fight, and she left with another dude who was supposed to take her home. She disappeared, and everyone would have blamed me, but I was there all night drunk as shit, bitchin' to all her friends about her leaven'. Some hunters found her about a year later, dumped out in the woods. They caught the guys that did it, and they ain't ever gettin' out of jail. But it was jus’ never the same after that. Like when my mom died in that fire, like neither one of em was ever really real." He wiped at his face again with the back of his hand.

She wrapped her free arm around his thick chest, burying her face in his side. "I'm so sorry you went through that." She didn't know what else to say, and she knew he probably needed a little space to pull himself back together. "I'm going to get you another beer." He had his hand up again over his face, so she got up quickly and took extra time in the kitchen.

May handed him his beer and plopped back down on the couch next to him, holding a small pillow to her back. When he gave her a funny look, she piped up. "It’s a hot pad for my back. Back cramps are one of those 'fun' extras I get every month."

"Ya want me ta..." He took a quick drink off the bottle before putting it down on the coffee table, then spun his finger at her to turn around. She looked at him a little quizzical, but did so. His fingers started to work into the tight muscles at her shoulders. She grabbed a couple of pillows from the couch and tucked them under her chest, laying half way down on the couch.

"You are now officially the best man on the planet."

"Watch yur' movie." He grunted, but she could tell he was smiling. She hit play again on the remote, the girl on the screen briefly flickering back to life before dying on film. He was glad she was distracted; he needed a moment. He was still working on the information she had trusted to him, and his own memories that had flooded him. He had never meant to bring up Beth; to May or anyone ever again. Beth had come as close as he ever had to love. He wasn't sure she had ever felt the same about him. He had been more intense when he was younger; angrier too. They had challenged each other, pushed each other’s buttons, in good and bad ways. He had mellowed so much since then, felt so much better about himself. But that last bit probably had more to do with the pretty brunette he was currently rubbing his hands all over. At first she had seemed so perfect, so untouchable. But now... He worked his thumbs down to her lower back and she moaned and gave him a thumbs up. He gave her a simple back rub and she acted like he had handed her the world on a silver platter. It couldn't be that easy- could it? That was what women wanted? Back rubs and junk food? She had what everybody ever said that women wanted; and ditched it for a leaky home in rural Georgia. Maybe it was just her. Maybe he had just gotten lucky that a country girl had figured out she wasn't a city girl after all; and somehow she was letting him tag along for the ride.

She was unconsciously chewing on her cuticles when suddenly her hand pointed at the screen. "Oooo. Oooo. Watch this disemboweling- it’s the best!"

He shook his head and chuckled a little. "She's a weird little shit- but she's my..." He stopped thought, taking a deep drink off his beer instead. Best not run with that idea. Best to just let sleeping dogs lie.

She reached around, pulling her hair around behind her head. It revealed the scoop of her neck; the soft, pale skin beckoning him in flickering light of the screen. He reached up, moving a few lose strands into the pile of hair behind her head, but the contact was nowhere near enough. Touching her soft, wavy strands had only made it worse. He wanted her so badly he could feel it like cold seeping into his joints; crisp and aching. He cleared his throat and went back to working on her tight muscles. He kept going until the end of her movie, then told her he should go.

They walked out on the porch, the night cool; sounds of wildlife playing out around them. He stood on the ground to meet her eyes from the porch."I'ma be late tomorrow, won’t be in until the afternoon." She raised her eyebrows, but he wouldn't go into it. "Don' worry about it, just got ta’ get something personal done."

She placed her hands on his shoulders, rubbing her palms on soft leather of his vest. He was getting shifty, so she decided it best to change the subject. "You want to go to the carnival with us? I wouldn't ask, but you are probably the only chance those boys have for winning a prize."

"You don't got no aim?"

Her fingers threaded behind his neck, and she chuckled. "Not really. I might be able to hit the broad side of a barn, but not much else. And the boys are a little too short to do that well."

"I suppose." His voice was soft and he was starting to lean a little towards her, his voice soft and sweet.

"My hero once again." She smiled sweetly, leaning a little towards him as well, batting her eyelashes. "Then I'll see you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yeah." She closed the gap between them, kissing him easily. She felt the muscles under her fingers stay soft, and she had a little moment of triumph over his growing ease. She tipped her head to the side and deepened the kiss, teasing his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth to her and they connected softly, languidly, knowing that it would go no further then this moment. His hands came up timidly, his fingers finally resting on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him into her body, then pulled out of the kiss to look intently at his face. "God you have beautiful eyes." She whispered, brushing his hair back. "Bluer than a summer sky."

He looked down, clearly embarrassed. "Stop it."

"Suit yourself. But I think you're hot, and I'm entitled to my opinion." He looked away and off to the side with nothing but a grunt. His vest and shirt slipped a little, leaving the hollow of his throat uncovered on one side. She gave him a wet little kiss there, causing his breath to hitch. She made a little mental note of that spot and addressed him again. "I'll see you tomorrow." He nodded with a soft 'goodnight' and they parted ways.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

FRIDAY

It was not Daryl's first trip to the free clinic, but it was his first time for himself. Normally he was here with Merle, so he knew the drill, he just didn't like it. But the idea of possibly passing on something from the last hooker he was with, even though it was several years ago now, did not sit well with him at all. He would have to wait two weeks for some of the results to come in, and he knew that if that blessed opportunity finally arose he would be happy to use a rubber; ecstatic even. 'Might even last a whole five minutes.' He ruminated darkly, heading back up the hill to his place before heading up to May's.

He pulled up to see that the piles of lumber had been delivered and were sitting in the front yard. He gave her a quick hello before turning to his work, pushing himself for the rest of the day to make up time. By the time six o'clock rolled around he felt like he had made some good progress on a fence. He walked into the house just in time to catch a plastic dinosaur that Hap had thrown at Alfie, both of them screaming.

"Hey! Settle down now! Look at ur' Mama. She looks like she's about ready to have a nervous breakdown or sumpthin'."

They gave her a quick glance, looking a little abashed. She kept cooking dinner, but gave them both the stink eye. They gave her a little chorus of 'sorry' and went back to their toys. He approached her, wiping his sweaty face on an old shop rag. "You sure you still wanna take them out tonight? Their kinda bein' little dicks."

She chuckled; "Yeah, I already gave them my word. They're just exited is all." She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. "Sorry, dinner isn't for another thirty minutes or so."

He leaned against the counter, his arms wrapped around his chest. "I'ma run home and shower then, k?"

"Alright Sugar. You know, you can keep some clothes here if you want, it’s no big deal." She was busy turning dough into biscuits on the far counter so he couldn't see her face. He cleared his throat, which suddenly felt very dry. He rubbed his hand over his beard and face several times and shifted his feet.

She addressed him without looking at him, still busy with the food. "I can feel you over thinking it from over here. You can say no, I'm a big girl, I can take it."

She could barely hear his voice he was so mumbled. "Alright."

"Alright what?"

"I'll bring a bag over." He mumbled, wrapping his hands around his chest. She finally turned to look at him, smiling. "But don' go diggin' though it, it’s mine ya hear? Don' get all nosy on me now." He shook one grimy finger at her, his look stern.

She walked up to him, her hands covered in flour. "I wouldn't dream of it." She gave him a little peck on the lips, careful not to get flour on him. "Now hurry up, we have to get going."

He brought over a worn looking duffel bag, which he left in May's bedroom at her request. He tried not to think too much about going out with them all, but the thoughts always crept in. All through dinner the boys chatted, and May asked them about their day, but he was too pensive to even pay attention. Not that he was ever much for chatting, but tonight especially he was quiet and distracted. 'What will people say? When they see her with me? Half the town u'll probably be there; they ain't got nuthin' else to do. God, what if they laugh? Or what if...'

"Daryl! What wrong with you? Are you listening?" Hap was swinging one hand in front of Daryl's face, trying to get his attention.

"Hap, if you keep pestering Daryl you will not be going anywhere tonight. I WILL be getting a babysitter for you, and she will not be the fun one." May pulled Hap's hand out of Daryl's face and gave him a stern look. Normally he would gladly sit through the boy's antics, but today had been stressful, and was only going to become more so. Going out in public seemed like more of a punishment then a fun activity, but he knew it was something he had to do. Being part of a real family had expectations, and going out in public like normal people was one of them.

By the time they got to the fairgrounds that evening, he still hadn't pulled himself together enough to put together a full sentence. He drove his truck, with the kids in the jump seats behind the main bench. May seemed to understand that he didn't feel comfortable, and didn't try to start any conversation with him; just laid her hand on his thigh as he drove, and smiled when he glanced at her.

They reached the local fair grounds with little incident from the children, but once they were out of the car all bets were off. The boys drove them at a brutal pace through the rides, hitting several over and over again. When they walked, Daryl hung back, at least two steps behind at all times; his shoulders hunched and face low. He tried his best to ignore the screaming voices, smell of sweaty meat, and garish lights; choosing instead to linger back near bails of sweet smelling hay and dark shadows. And though it looked like his eyes were on her backside, his gaze was really held by the dark blue border of her sundress, like a beacon to him in the crowd. When the push and pull of the reckless people started to feel like too much, he would look at the solid blue striping, focusing on it like a light on a misty night. It would sooth him a little, to see it always there, just a few steps away. Every now and then May looked over her shoulder, making sure he was still back there; looking like a cat trapped in a dog pound. She knew she had to do something, anything, to pull him out of his own head. She steered the boys away from the roller coaster over to some games.

After watching them both fail miserably at darts a few times, she stood next to Daryl and asked him to give them a hand. That finally broke him out of his shell a little. As May suspected, Daryl was a wonder at carnival games. His patience and skill easily overcame most of the rigged ones, and once he was finally engaged in the conversation, he easily chatted with the children; correcting their aim and pointing out the flaws in each game. She played with them a little, but mostly stood back after noticing Daryl tended to relax a little more when just paying attention to the children. After almost fifteen minutes at the mini rifle range she took a bathroom break. When she returned, Daryl stood away from the boys, smoking a cigarette.

"Hey Mama." Hap was grinning ear to ear, hiding something behind his back.

"Go on Hap, give it to her. We ain't got all night." Alfie pushed Hap a few steps closer to her.

Hap pulled a knock off stuffed Eyore from behind his back and gave it to her. "Oh thank you baby, I love it."

"Daryl was really the one that got it for ya, but he said to say it was from me."

"Don't be such an ass Hap, Jesus." Alfie gave his brother a dirty look.

May crossed her arms, her lips tight. "Alfred Atwell! I don't know where you got that language, but I never want to hear it again, you understand me Mr.?"

Alfie looked down, avoiding the smug look on Hap's face. "Yes Mama."

She looked up to see Daryl approach. "Well hello. You see what Hap got me? Doesn't seem like the kind of thing he would remember; how much I love Eyore. Strange." She gave him a little side eye and he smiled, which he quickly covered with a hand.

And then the boys were off again. After forty-five minutes of yanking Daryl up and down the aisle, Hap and Alfie had their arms full of cheap carnival toys. When they could hold any more, May steered them towards the relative quiet of some food booths. The boys were sitting on a bench next to May, eating ice cream, when she noted that Daryl was no longer looking down at his boots. His hawkish eyes were looking into the crowd, taking in something she did not see.

Suddenly, he grabbed her shoulder, shaking it a little. "We need to go. Now." His voice was calm but insistent, in a way she did not recognize. When she turned to him, her face taunt with worry, he whispered in her ear; "There's a Savage Son headed this way." She hurried the boys along, doing her best not to let on that trouble was brewing. They made good time, only to be waylaid at the exit by her coworker Gladis and her grand-kids. They spoke for a moment before Daryl decided to take the kids back to the truck. The three of them had just walked away when May felt a hand on her shoulder pull her around.

"Mr. Alderwood?" Her tone betrayed her shock and annoyance.

He gave her a lavicious grin; all perfect white teeth with more than a hint of beer coming off of him. "Well, well, now what do we have here. You're lookin' real nice tonight Marion."

Her lips quivered a little in revulsion. "Its Ms. Atwell, if you please. I was just speaking with..."

"She was having a conversation Alderwood." Gladis had her hands on her ample hips, one foot tapping. "So why don't you just move along now, hum?"

He turned red, baring more teeth, and spat at Gladis. "Look here fatty..."

"Whoah, whoah, whoah." May stood in front of him, her hands waiving to get his attention. "Now you are out of line. I think you owe her an apology for..."

"Whoah yourself now honey, I think you're forgotten who you're talking to here. I'm the man who got your little redneck piece of trash his sweet little deal. And if you want him to keep it..."

May crossed her arms, her gaze intense. "And I think you are forgetting that we have a signed deal with the Sheriff's office that even a prosecutor cannot renege on."

"Ha! She got you by the balls now asshole!" May turned to see Gladis snickering, her older grandson now recording the proceedings on his phone.

She wasn't the only one to notice the recording. Alderwood grabbed her by the arm yanking her away, back into carnival grounds. "I think you've made enough of a little show their missy. Come on, let’s go have some fun in private." His tone was throaty, flecks of spit hitting her ear and neck where he leaned into her to loudly whisper. She fought with him, yelling, and trying to break his grip. But despite his slight stature he was strong, easily dragging her behind him, her feet making ruts in the ground.

"What the fuck is goin' on here? And who the fuck are you?" It was Daryl, his voice still distant. She turned, shouting his name over the thunder of people. He rocketed into the crowd, pushing and shoving until he reached her. He grabbed Alderwood by the back of his shirt, jerking him back suddenly, his grip on May releasing as he swung around. Daryl quickly got in his face, spitting mad. "Who the fuck you think you are, grabbin another man's woman like that?"

Alderwood's scowl quickly turned into a smirk. "Your woman? I'm unclear why a pretty little thing like that would be... jesus christ!" His expression quickly changed as May's shoe made contact with his knee cap.

Daryl whipped around on her, his index finger in her face. "Stay back woman! Ain't you in enough trouble already?" Her arms crossed over her heaving chest, but she backed up; giving him the wooden response of 'Fine.' Alderwood took the moment to try and slink away, but Daryl caught his arm, whipping him back around. "Oh no you don't ya sissy bitch. We got business here we ain't done with. Kidnappin's illegal as hell an..." He didn't get a chance to finish speaking before Alderwood swung at him, grazing his jaw slightly as Daryl ducked.

"I don't have to take this from your kind! I did that little tease a favor and she owes me..." Whoosh, snap. Daryl's fist made contact with ribs, easily moving things around inside the man's body. He crumpled to the ground, spitting vomit.

"I don't care what you think you're owed. Nobody touches her like that. Least of all some Alpha Beta frat lookin' mother fucker." He turned to May, his eyes still blazing. "You know this asshole?"

Her eyes narrowed at the man on the ground. "He's the prosecutor who signed off on Merle's deal. He agreed to the conditions- I don't owe him shit."

Alderwood looked up at her. "You stupid cunt. I can't take back that deal, but I'll get you for this. Both of you. I know people. Important people. And you're going to be so fucking sorry."

"What I know," advised May, "is that my good friend over there has a tape of this whole thing. And if you ever want to run for public office, you really don't want it being common knowledge that you tried to abduct a woman. Not to mention a couple of dozen witnesses who are watching right now." His head whipped around, as if just now realizing how public the whole incident had been. "Come on Daryl" she placed a hand gently on his arm. "Let’s go home." He grunted at her, before walking into the small crowd of bystanders and heading back to the truck. She had a quick word with Gladis, ensuring she would forward her the footage, before heading back to the vehicle herself.

The boys had been waiting by the truck watching from afar. She tried to settle them down on the ride back home, but they would not stop talking about the fight and how they had been so sure that Daryl would win the day. Daryl had gone back to being sullen while he drove, seemingly lost in thought, happy to let the boys fill the silence. When they pulled back up to the house, May sent the boys inside with the stuffed animals, and a directive to get ready for bed. Daryl leaned against the truck, smoking, watching her with careful eyes. She took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of wood smoke on the breeze before approaching him. He shifted back and forth on his feet, his hands jerky and awkward.

"Ya may want to steer clear of me for a while, I still feel like I'm itchin' for a fight." He looked down, flicking his cigarette several times in a row.

"Those boys think you're a hero."

"They're just boys. Boys like fights. Sides, it’s my fault ya even had to deal with that SOB."

She grabbed his chin roughly, her fingers digging into the bone to fight his pulling away. He looked at her defiantly, and she could see the blood still boiling in his veins. "You listen to me goddamn it. That piece of shit nearly... well it wouldn't have been good would it?"

"No." His lips were almost nonexistent, his jaw clenched down so tight.

"Then whats the real problem here?" Her eyes flickered across his face, looking for some sign of what was going on in his head.

"What if I weren't there May? Huh? What if you and the boys was there alone and that happened? That old lady you friends with gunna help you next time?"

She sighed. "You're right. Damn it." She let go of his chin, her hand unconsciously running over the fresh bruise on her arm.

"Yeah. I am." He sounded a little unsure, the concept of correctness still too new to fully accept.

"I guess I'm not in the suburbs any more. Maybe I should get a gun?" She dropped her forehead to his chest. "Oh jesus, I don't know what to do with a fucking gun."

He let out a dry chuckle. "Could'a fooled me, the way you took that guy's knee cap out. That was sumpthin'."

She looked up at him, taking a drag off his cigarette, and she chuckled a little. "Well I wasn't gunna just let him talk to my man that way."

"I'm your man? Is that an official title?" He looked down, suddenly bashful.

"I suppose I could call you my old man, if you prefer. Or boyfriend."

He snorted. "Shit, I don't know."

"Well, I figure I better call you something, since you just declared to half the town that I'm 'your woman'."

He put his free hand over his face, groaning. "I did, didn't I?"

"Yep. I sure as hell ain't getting asked out by anybody else anytime soon." Daryl dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his boot. He wouldn't look at her, but a little grin teased at the corner of his mouth. "So you better pick a title. Because every busy body in town is going to be up my ass come Monday morning."

"Sorry." He crossed his arms across his chest, his eyes briefly darting up to her face. She reached up, cupping his cheek, running her thumb across the little bruise where he'd gotten punched.

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Every woman in town is going to be beside themselves with jealousy."

He sneered, his tone indignant. "Why? Cuz some asshole tried to manhandle ya?"

"No, you beautiful, thick headed man. Because I had someone willing to fight for me. Not allot of men in that crowd seemed to care that I was getting hauled away. And I'm pretty sure you would have done that for pretty much any woman that he tried to drag off."

"Wasn't nuthin'."

"I'm telling you it was. Believe that I believe it, ok?" He grunted, looking up at her with a small glance. "I'm going to bed. I'm so tired I can't see straight." He nodded, and she went inside, the screen door squeaking closed behind her. Daryl didn't sleep well that night, spending most of it walking the woods with his bow, sifting through his thoughts like tangled fishing line in an over full tackle box.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

SATURDAY

The coffee at the Betsy's Dinette was passable, if weak. The late afternoon sun was blazing bright, casting blinding orange beams all the way to the back booth near the kitchen. But neither of these things were why Detective Allen had his head in his hands, making a low moaning noise, his eyes blood shot from hard rubbing. "Do you two fuckups want to try and venture a guess at how epic-ly fucked we all fucking are? Fuck!" He slammed both hands on the table rattling the silverware around on the Formica table top. May had her arms folded over her chest, her face stern, but Daryl looked abashed and a little sullen; his fingers fidgeting nervously under the table.

"You know this will work detective. We all still get what we want." She tried to keep her tone even, but his hissy fit had pissed her off.

"And the prosecutor?" He leaned toward her over the table. "Huh, smarty pants? What do you propose I do about that?"

She cleared her throat, her eyes boring holes in him. "I'm unclear how his act of assault is my fault."

"You threatened him with blackmail!"

"Not really..."

"You're splitten' that hair real fine then sister."

"I've notified you promptly and I'll send you a copy of the video. I get absolutely nothing out of it."

He drummed his fingers on the table, giving her the squinty eye. "Fine. But if you two knuckle heads add any more curve balls to this agreement, so help me..."

"I'm gunna handle it. All the rest of it- just leave her out of it from now on." Daryl barked, leaning over towards the officer.

Detective Allan took a deep sigh. "Son, I know you're Rick's friend and all, but I'ma need you ta take it down a notch. I didn't drive 45 minutes away from my house on a Saturday for greasy pie and greasier coffee."

"Yeah I know why you're here. You want the Savage Sons, and you want their meth to stop."

"Yeah, yeah I do. Almost as much as you want them to keep their hands off your brother."

"Can we not have a dick waiving contest right now?" Neither of the men looked happy at that comment, but they both stopped talking. "When will you contact us Detective?"

"Early next week. We need to move quickly on this to avoid suspicion as much as possible. And god only knows what we're gunna do with a prosecutor who's going around threatening people. I'm gunna pass that up the chain of command because it is way the fuck above my pay grade." He picked up a cowboy hat from the seat next to him and left, shaking his head.

"I hate that guy." Daryl mumbled, slipping into the now empty side of the booth.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to buy you flowers either, but he's reliable and Rick speaks highly of him." May rubbed her fingers over her forehead, her cup of bitter coffee sitting untouched next to her other hand. Daryl's fingers flexed, then reached out a little, brushing gently over her knuckles; only to pull back quickly when the waitress approached.

"Will there be anything else for ya?" She was already pulling the bill off of the pad and didn't seem tpo happy to be there in the first place.

May reached for her purse. "No, I guess that's all."

"Hey." Daryl gave a little bark. "I'll get it. And just sit still we need to talk a little."

"Whatever. I'll be back." The waitress shuffled off to the counter again, her eyes rolling.

"Well? What’s up?" Her head tiled to the side a little, and he shifted uneasily in his seat.

"I don'... want cha to be mad." Her eyebrows raised a little. "Not that its anything bad. I just... it isn't right, ya know? Me and you, like we are."

Her stomach clenched, but she didn't say a word. "I mean, if we're, ya know. I don't know. I shouldn't be workin' for ya too. It isn't right. You shouldn't be payin' me for things a man ought to already be doin' around the house is all."

She smiled and took a sip of the cold coffee, feeling a warmth filling her stomach just the same. "Go on."

He coughed and wiped his nose on his old shop rag. "So I got a job. There's a garage I use to work at. I called him this morning and the guy took me back, even though I bailed on him. I guess his son was doin' a shitty job of keepin' the place goin'. And I don' need ta’ live in his trailer any more. So he's givin' me a second chance."

'Such a goddamn gentleman. He is worth more than he will ever know.' The thought put an even bigger grin on her face, but she kept it in check, her voice a little stern. "And what about my fence?"

"I tol' you I'd take care of it and I will. I can see you..." he spun his finger in the air; "getting all worked up about it. But you an’ the boys are my responsibility, and I'm gunna handle it. Don' let your lady business make ya all crazy over nuthin'."

She couldn't help but laugh at his terrible little joke, and he cracked a little smile, happy that she wasn't really mad. "Don't worry sweetheart, I'm all done for the month. Any craziness is all my own." She sipped her coffee to avoid looking him in the face.

He looked down at the table, still a little abashed at the topic. "Alright then. Let’s get out of here huh?"

"You got somewhere in mind?"

He nodded his head, and she grabbed her bag. "Let’s do it then. We have freedom until noon tomorrow when we pick up the kids from their sleepover. I want to enjoy all of it."

'I hope you do.' His mind darkened briefly as he paid the bill, hoping against hope that their evening wouldn't be the complete disaster he assumed it would be.

*******************************  
They stood in an open field, surrounded by hay bales, broken bottles, and spent shell casings. She took it all in for a moment, while Daryl gave his 'buddy' a few bucks to let them shoot off some rounds in his back field. What the hell was she doing here? 'Your'e here because Daryl looked like a puppy with a new bone when he talked about shooting. And if he loves it so damn much...well... you may just have to learn to love it too.'

Daryl interrupted her rumination by tapping her on the shoulder and pointing to a hand gun sitting on an old wood table. "Mike's gunna let you practice with one of his guns. And don't worry, I'll show you how ta’ use it." She felt nervous as hell, but she nodded, and after a while she found herself having a great time. Her enthusiasm infectious, Mike had let her try several of his collection, and before she knew it, it was close to sun down.

She pulled off her ear protection and tossed them on the table. "Well I must say Daryl; I am very surprised. I had a great time; you were right."

"So can I talk ya inta' gettin a pistol?"

"Not a chance."

He crossed his arms over his chest, puffing up a little in annoyance. "Now May, I ain't gunna be around so much anymore and I..."

"Daryl, I don't have a safe. My aim is terrible. I almost murdered a groundhog."

"Damn. I thought you were aiming for it."

"Ha ha. But come on. " He squinted at her and shook his head. "Maybe. In the future. When I'm a little more qualified."

"Fine."

She took a look around them, the evening sun lighting up the grass and trees like fire. A breeze picked up, and the sweet smell of hay and earth made her breath in deeply. "Can we walk a little? Would your friend mind?"

"He'd sell his own wife for ten bucks and a pack of Skoal, so I think I can grease the wheels a little."

He returned the guns to the house, and came back with a beat up looking ruck sack; a rolled up horse blanket tied to the top. She tried to ask about it, but he dismissed her question. They set off, down trails familiar to him from years of hunting and fishing the area. They walked leisurely, their foot falls disturbing little in the drowsy time between day and night. More than once he caught her looking at him. And every time he would look away, like a bashful boy. She would ask him a question, about birds, a stone, or anything that caught her eye, to alleviate his nerves and make him feel a little surer of himself. Finally, they stopped near a ridge where the trees parted and they could see the dying sun over the hills. They settled in a large patch of tall grass. Daryl laid out the blanket with excruciating care, evening out the grass and moving all the largest stones.

"This... this alright?" He sat next to her, shifting himself over and again; his arms, legs, knuckles cracking, lips twisting.

"Perfect." She pointedly did not look at him, giving him a moment to settle to her being present in a place he was normally alone. Like a sparrow he finally settled into himself, only sending her glances with little jerks of his eyes.

After a while he dug into the sack, pulling out an old glass bottle. "Its Dandelion wine. Mike's wife makes it."

She took the bottle from him, flipped the little metal clasp at the top, and took a drink. "It’s good. What else you squirreling away in there?" He gave her a tiny grin and started to unpack. A cardboard box full of wild strawberries, cheese wrapped in brown paper, a white kitchen rag of deer jerky, another with biscuits, and a small ball jar of apple butter.

"I'm sorry it ain't much." He mumbled, scratching at his beard. "They didn' have much in tha’ house. But I know how much you hate bein' hungry, so I figured a country spread was better'n nuthin at all."

She leaned back, resting on one arm; the soft grass providing padding. "I love it. You know, people in the city would probably pay a hundred bucks for an 'artisanal' spread like this." She took a big bite out of one of the strawberries. "No shit."

"A hundred bucks for homemade cheese, wild strawberries and shit? What the hell? Can't they make it themselves?"

"Nope. Too busy making money." She took another swig off the wine before passing it to Daryl. He snorted in disdain, and took a drink off the bottle.

They ate until the sun had set and the food was mostly gone. He packed up everything except the unopened jar of apple butter. She struggled with the top until he took it from her, opened it, and handed it back. He was about to hand her his knife to eat with, when she started to eat it out of the jar with her fingers. "God I love this stuff. My mother would buy rotting apples for cheap, then make huge batches of it. The whole trailer would smell sweet for days."

He grunted, his thoughts occupied by the way she sucked the fruit from her fingers. She noticed, and held up one sticky finger towards his mouth. "Want a taste?" He let his lips gently wrap around the finger, sucking it a little of jam, before turning away to look very intently at the sky across the valley. He forced himself to breath slowly and deliberately, until his over whelming urge to get up and run died down. He looked back at her when she poured a little wine on her hand to wash the syrup away, then wiped it dry on one of the towels.

"Did you just drink a whole jar of jam?" He chuckled, feeling bemused.

"It wasn't that big of a jar. And you eat, like, two candy bars every day; so you can't judge me." She threw the damp rag at him, which he caught easily before impact.

"And what if I still wanted some?" He was still laughing, but stopped when she got up on fours and closed the small gap between them.

"Well then, I'll give you a taste." She leaned forward, kissing him gently. He reached out, his fingers dancing around her throat. She pulled away to sit down next to him, their legs brushing. His fingers shifted to her jaw, and she watched his eyes flicker around her face, unsure how to proceed. She reached up, tugging gently on the short white whiskers on his chin. "Kiss me." She whispered, leaning her face into his hand. He leaned in, as instructed, and touched their lips together softly. She reached over, one hand sliding along his middle, pulling his body a little closer, before letting her hand roam over his chest. His heart beat felt like he had been running instead of sitting, and she struggled to understand how to make him feel more relaxed. How was he ever going to have sex if he couldn't navigate his own anxiety? She pulled away, and tried to look him in the eyes, but his face looked down as quickly and his hand pulled away from her cheek; almost as if he had been burned. "Daryl? Is this ok? Because I want this- I want you- and I just... I don't know." She let out a dry laugh. "You just seem so hesitant; I guess I just want to make sure you're not having a panic attack or something."

"I... I'm good." His head bobbed a little before he straightened up and looked at her, his expression a little angry. "You know, it’s your own damn fault. Ya chose to be with me, an’ here I am. Just a fucked up bag of garbage, don't even know how to kiss a girl without freaking out. Ya know..."

"Enough!" She reared up, knocking him over onto his back, his eyes still defiant. She straddled him, her hands on his shoulders, shouting a little. "You are an excellent provider, caring to a fault, smart as a whip, and handsome as the devil!" Her voice softened and she moved her hands to ground under his arms. "And I'm going to spend as many years as you let me, shouting it at you, until you believe it too." His hands moved up her arms to rest in her hair, his eyes gone soft again. "Just touch me. If I don't like it, I'll tell you. And if you don't like something I do, or if you want something different, you tell me. It's just that simple. I'm not going to judge what you like or don't like. Unless you want me to eat gummy worms out of your ass. Then I might judge just a little." He snorted at the joke and tugged at her neck, until she leaned forward to kiss him. She worked her body over him, his fingers pulling at her hair when she finally rubbed him just right with her pelvis. She swiveled her hips again and he let out a noise between a groan and a growl, dipping his tongue deep into her mouth. Her hand snaked up to hold his jaw in place while she kissed past his rough beard, down to the hollow at his throat. He smelt of tobacco, sweat, and some musky cologne; but almost overwhelmingly of leather he wore every day. His hips bucked between her legs as she sucked his neck, and she felt a wetness start to form in her panties. She pulled back to look at him, and in the moon light she thought he was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen; panting, ravaged looking, and desperate for more.

"Take me home Daryl" she sighed, caressing his chest. Then dropping her lips to his ear, continued; "make love to me in our bed. Show me how much you want me." His hips bucked and he rolled them over, pinning her with his torso. His fingers stroked her cheek before he dipped his lips back to hers, kissing her with a new found ferocity.

He pulled up after a moment and started stroking her cheek again. "Ya sure? It ain't so bad here, nice an’ dark."

She smiled, running her hands up under his shirt. "I'm absolutely sure. Besides..." She craned her neck, kissing up the pillar of his throat. "sex in the woods is only fun during the day- when you might get caught."

He chuckled, sounding delighted. "Alright, you win." She laid back on the ground, running her fingers through his bangs to see his eyes. "Ya know, it ain't fair." She gave him a quizzical look. "That thing ya been doing with yur lips and tongue. You could ask me ta set myself on fire while doin' that and I would."

"Good to know" she grinned. "But all I want is to be at home. In a real bed." He gave her a little smile and they packed up. 

Night had already fallen around them and she struggled to keep up in the darkness, despite the small path they walked. He reached out and took her hand, leading her gently through the shadows. His mind reeled with thoughts. 'Our bed. Like it isn't just her house anymore. Do I belong there? Really? Is that something that can even happen? What if she wants me to live there? Oh sweet Jesus, I don't know man, I just don't know...' By the time they got home he had chewed his lip so badly that it was bleeding. But he followed her inside like a puppy, hands over his chest, waiting on her to give a directive.

"Why don't you get a beer, sit down, take off your boots, and relax for a second; ok?" He gave her a little nod and acted as bidden, even resting his bare feet on the coffee table as he turned on the TV. For a moment, he let himself feel it. Home. That this place, this life, could possibly be his. That it wasn't a situation he was misreading, or all some kind of cruel joke. That maybe he could do this, be the kind of person who had these things and lived this life. And all those thoughts, and thoughts of most every kind, fell away when he saw her again. She had a short, grey silk slip on. It lose at the bottom, fitted around the breasts, and had a little bit of lace around the cups. Her hair was down, and it fell in the soft loose waves that seemed to form of their own accord. She plopped down on the couch like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"What cha' watching?" Her voice was light, her eyes on the TV, pretending not to notice the predatory look on his downcast face. He grunted and coughed, his arms tight around his chest. "Sorry Daryl, I didn't catch that." She leaned in, her breasts touching his arm.

"Are you," he coughed again "tryin' ta kill me?" He moved his arm away from her chest to the back of the couch, his other hand reaching over to grip the edge of her nighty.

She looked up at him with big, soft eyes. "Why? What do you mean?" He snorted, and his eyes dipped down to the valley between her breasts. His tongue dipped out, slowly licking his lips. 'Well who's looking more like a starved wolf than a sad puppy all of a sudden.' she thought, biting her lip at the sudden change.

Her left hand wrapped around his thigh, and she leaned on it as bent towards his ear. "I guess you like my dress." She cooed, to which he snorted.

"More like a handkerchief sweetheart."

"Handkerchief’s aren't normally made of imported silk," she moved his hand from the hem of the garment, further up her thigh. "can't you tell?" He grunted, his fingers rubbing the soft cloth. She bent over, her lips wrapping around his earlobe and she gave it little sucks. "You look so... predatory right now. It's really turning me on." His hand gripped her thigh, and she could hear his breath quicken. "Daryl, I want you to fuck me. We can do it slow another time." He made a little whimper and she alternated to kissing the little hollow below his ear. "Please baby, I want you make me come so hard that I see stars. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes." He sounded strained to his limit- but she still wanted just a little more.

"There's just one thing I want you to do first." She pulled away from his neck to look him in the eye. "Catch me." She giggled and took off, the soft fabric slipping through his fingers. She headed around the couch, looking back over her shoulder for just a moment, barely keeping out of his grasp. He was snarling a little, but grinning ear to ear at the same time, losing himself a little in the sport. He chased her around the couch and table, before catching her on the stairs. He threw her easily over his shoulder, smacking her lightly on the ass before giving it a squeeze.

"That's mine now, earned it fair and square." He said it a little under his breath, but growly and prideful just the same.

When he threw her on the bed, he bent over her, one hand stroking the fabric between her breasts. "So, uh, I guess you'd be pretty pissed off if I, ya know, ripped this off of you, yeah?"

She laughed. "Yeah. Just..." But before she could say another word, he had pulled it off of her. He lifted the fabric to his face, smelling it, looking her in the eye. She felt her bare nipples harden, and her breath become shallow.

"You ain't getting this back." He tossed it off to the side of the bed. "S'mine now."

"Maybe you let me borrow it sometime?" He only grunted, his hand reaching out to her breast, kneading it softly. She pulled on his shirt until he took it off, both of their hands now free to roam unabated. He bent, sucking one nipple, then the other, making her moan and arch into his mouth. While he sucked, he worked her panties down, finally pushing her knees apart to lay between them. Aching, she pulled him up by his hair, kissing him roughly; then releasing him to kiss around her neck and shoulders. After a moment, she felt his hand dip down between their bodies. He palmed her mound, then stroked it, slowly finding his way around, listening to which little noises she made when he would stroke a certain place. When he felt a little more secure about her preferences, he made a show of kissing down her body, making his way down to her pussy. He worked his way around her entrance and lips with his mouth, before working up to her clit, all the while pumping in and out of her with his fingers.

"Oh god damn it Daryl, that feels so good, oh my god baby, your'e gunna make me come." She looked down at him, panting. She could have sworn she saw him smile, then he licked her even faster. She came hard, screaming his name and pulling his hair. When she was spent, she pulled him up on top of her for another kiss. 

"Guess I didn' fuck that up too badly then huh?" He smiled down at her, stroking her hair.

"Shut up Dixon. You're good at that and you know it." She wrapped her legs around him, pushing at the waist of his pants. "Come on sugar, take them off. I want to see all of you."

"Hurmpf." He stood up, looking away as he flipped open his buckle and pulled down his jeans. He crossed one arm over his chest, scratching nervously at his bicep. He was lean, with very little fat on him. Not scrawny, but not overly muscular either, with a tan line that pronounced his love of sleeveless shirts. And a soft looking patch of belly hair led down to his beautiful cock; hard and ready.

She sat up, getting underneath the blanket. She ran her hands over her breasts, then reached out one hand, her voice soft. "Come on now handsome, don't be shy." He took her hand and crawled in, his body over hers. He kissed her, but she pushed back on him, rolling them over. When she was on top, she ran her hand over him, stopping only to suck a little at his nipples and collar bone. When he started to buck up between her legs she paused, letting go of his hand long enough to get a rubber out of the night stand. He swallowed hard and kept his eyes on the ceiling as she put it on him. She was about to push him inside her when he gripped hard on her hips.

He flipped them back over, then slowly pushed inside her. When he was fully in, he paused. "Are you good?" 

She wrapped her legs around his hips and back. "I great. You feel amazing, just move." 

He immediately started rubbing her clit again. "I ain't gunna last too long. You wanna come again, you gotta be quick about it."

She angled her lips up to his ear. "Yes sir."

He snickered; "Damn it woman, I mean it. You're so fuckin tight I... argh jesus christ, did you just clench?" She nodded, all wide eyes again. "God damn it sweetheart. Fine. You wanna play dirty, I can do that." He pulled back, took a deep breath, and started pounding at her, his fingers flicking at her clit. She came again, hard and fast, and he was soon behind. He bucked, moaned, and cried her name as his orgasm ran rough shod through him. He collapsed on top of her, little whimpering breaths escaping for a few moments afterward. She caressed his back and hair, not really paying attention to one thing or another, just the feel of his skin in her hands and the evening of his breath.

"That was great." She purred, pulling his hair behind his ear.

"It was five minutes." He mumbled into her chest.

"That two orgasms. I happen to enjoy orgasms. I'm pretty sure you had one too." He didn't say anything, but she felt him smile into her chest. She scratched at his scalp a little, and a shiver ran through his body.

"You know what we're doing, right?"

"I'ma be sleeping here in just a second."

"We're cuddling."

"S'what you wanted, right?"

"I love touching you. I'd run my tongue over every bare inch of you if you'd let me, so yeah, this is what I wanted."

He snickered and rubbed his face into her neck, clearly embarrassed. She kissed him on the top of the head, then shifted until he was on his side. He tried to pull away, but she wrapped her arms around him, pulling his face to her chest. "Ain't you supposed to be the one layin on me?" He sounded a little surprised.

"I like this better, I get to play with your hair. Don't you like having breasts for pillows?"

"I ain't gunna fucking complain."

"Well alright then. Go to sleep tiger. Maybe we'll have some time in the morning to fool around again?" He pulled up just enough to pull off the rubber and toss it in the trash next to the bed. He kissed her, softly this time, before curling back into her chest. They both slept soundly, intertwined, hearts now calm in the comfort of one another's body.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

SUNDAY

The next morning, like clockwork, he was up with the sun. He got up to pee, and when he came back to bed he took a moment to look at her; hair a mess of waves, body half covered with the blanket. With the morning light coming through the window, he was pretty sure she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She stretched her arms over her head and opened her eyes to look at him, and he turned away quickly.

"You should go back to sleep, it's still early yet." He mumbled, rubbing his face.

"Are you?" She yawned.

"Yeah, I suppose so." He crawled back in, laying down on 'his' side of the bed.

"I'll be right back." He watched her walk to the bathroom, then stared at the ceiling, fidgeting, until she came back. He didn't watch her out right, but could see her movement from his peripheral vision just the same. He tucked one arm under his head, tracking her movement with his eyes, as she got back in next to him. She slowly curled into his body, resting her face on his chest, her hand on his belly.

"You know Sugar," she purred, gently stroking his torso and abdomen. "I have a difficult time picking out which part of you is the sexiest."

"Hurmpf." He let out a disdainful little laugh, finally letting his hand fall into her hair.

She propped herself up on one arm. "Come on now, I mean it. Those wide shoulders..." she ran her hand over him, dragging her nails a little to leave a mark. "This hairy chest. These delicious little nipples..." she nipped him a little on the nub and he gave a little 'ow' and a chuckle. But soon she was tickling down his belly, and she felt his stomach muscles clench a little.

"Mmmmmm, this is it. All over your body you're rough and tough. But this little patch here on your tummy- this skin is so soft. Almost as soft as your lower back."

He grinned a little, as if he had been caught doing something embarrassing. "You really, I mean, my body isn't exactly...."

She kept her eyes glued to his stomach, the way the muscle moved beneath the skin, the folds of his belly button, the curl of the hair. "Your body is a treasure." She bent over his middle, leaving slow, wet kisses along each ridge. Her hand dipped below the blanket and under his leg, pushing up until he bent the knee and she could stroke his inner thigh. His breathing changed, and he let out a little sigh.

"Baby, no more. Kiss me." It was a soft, needy request, and one she fulfilled gladly. She straddled him slowly, and could feel his semi hard cock rest against her back side. His eyes snapped shut, and as she bent over his chest, his hands ran up her thighs to squeeze at her ass. They lay that way for a few minutes, kissing and touching, until she pulled away from his lips again.

"Daryl?"

"Um, yeah." His eyes fluttered open as if he had been asleep.

"There's something I want you to do for me, ya know, in bed." He felt a little sick, concluding again that he must have done something wrong, but he managed to nod instead of voicing his worries.

"Now if you're not OK with this, it’s OK, it’s not a deal breaker, but um..."

"Out with it!" He bit his lips, that had been a lot harsher then he meant it to be.

She pinched his nipple. "Damn it man, I'm trying to ask for something that's a little embarrassing! Show a little compassion!"

He reached up and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry baby. Whatever you want. Except gummy worms in my ass." She smiled, and so did he. And that little flutter hit him in the gut, the one that he seemed to feel more and more every day.

"So sometimes, especially when I'm about to cum, would you, maybe, give me a real hard love bite on the neck?"

He frowned. "You mean like a hickey?"

"No, no. This is a hickey." She bent over his chest, sucking at one of his pec muscles, until a small little red bruise formed. "This is a love bite." She pulled his hair to the side and bit his shoulder, softly, licking a little at the flesh. She felt his hips buck a little between her legs and she let go. "Did you like that?"

"Yeah," his voice was a little husky. "Maybe you, um, do it to me too?"

"With pleasure. Gosh Daryl, your'e gunna' have me tied to the bed with a blind fold on before long."

He ran a hand over his mouth, trying to hid a smile. "You, uh, into that stuff?"

"Nothing too heavy. I don't want to get beaten up or anything. Just remember, my safe word is Albaqueerie."

He chuckled. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Nothing, it’s a made up word. But because it's made up, it will never accidentally make its way into conversation while you have me blindfolded and bound, subject to your every whim."

He found himself completely unable to look her in the face, so he looked intently at her leg, his voice soft. "I don' know if I'm creative enough for all that."

"I think you'll surprise yourself, once you've been mulling it over for a while." She pushed up on his chin until he looked up into her eyes.

"You really trust me, to do all that ta ya?"

"Completely." She kissed him, deeply, and his arms wrapped around her in a bear hug. He softened a little when she started kissing down his chin and around his neck. One of her hands worked down between them until she found his erection, almost full. Her lips and caresses sunk down his torso until her tongue found his rod; licking his shaft and flicking her tongue around the tip. Her fingers massaged his sack, and his thighs spread of their own accord. When she started rubbing at his perineum, she felt him start to shake a little.

"Stop, stop, stop, it feels too good an I don' wanna come that way."

She pulled back, straddling his lap again. "Then say it. Tell me how you want me Daryl. How can I make you feel good?"

His eyes were darting, looking up and down, away from her face. "I guess, you can, I mean..." He sighed, fingers over his eyes.

She bent, pressing her ear to his lips. "Whisper it. Just let go."

"I want you on topa' me." He cleared his throat. "Riden' me slow. I wanna touch you, and I want you to stick your breasts in my mouth."

"Mmmm, that sounds hot. Can I put the rubber on you?" He nodded, his bangs so long now that they almost fully covered one eye. She was right, he felt- lighter. Letting words out to the right person felt more like releasing a bird then telling a shameful secret. It hit him hard and suddenly- that she really wanted him. He felt his eyes sting a little, and he wiped them quickly when she reached into the drawer for a condom.

She shimmied down his hips, running her hand down his shaft, addressing it. "Hello my darling. God damn you are one gorgeous cock." She gave it a little lick and it twitched. Then she slowly rolled down the rubber. "I think he likes me. What do you think?"

"I think he's in love with you. Now get on before I die here woman."

"Yes sir." She hovered over him, working him into her slowly, in short little penetrations. She reached behind her, and every time she could reach it, she would give his testicles a little stroke. Her nipples moved to his mouth on the upswing, and he would lick and suck at them before she moved back down. "Moan for me Daryl. Let me know how good I make you feel." He let out a long, agonizing sigh, almost like a sob. Finally, she took him all the way in, and they both keened at the sensation. He reached out and grabbed her hand, gripping it tightly, and kissed her. For a few minutes she just moved up and down on him, kissing and moaning. Then she felt his legs move and he started to push up into her with a fierce insistence. His free hand reached between them to her clit, working it slowly with a lazy pressure. All the physical stimulus got her close, but it wasn't until she really listened to the soft sounds of their bodies, and his moans, did she finally come. As she finished, she knew he wouldn't be far behind her, but she felt the need to give him a little push. There, in front of her, was his neck and shoulder; brown from the sun and slick from his exertions. She leaned forward, biting into him; sucking, and licking at the sweaty skin.

"Oh god baby, I lo..." And he came, hard, squeezing her hand and pounding into her body. "Oh shit. Don' move, don' move. Just hold still. Just..." He shivered, the orgasm running through his body like electric shocks. When he finally stopped shivering, she pulled him out, now soft, and removed the condom to the trash. She kept her legs around him, and slowly ran her finger tips down his arms and chest. He shivered again, little goose bumps raising wherever her fingers ran.

"That's weird. But good." He smiled, that shy little half gin. She lifted his arms over his head.

"Just tell me if it tickles and I'll stop, OK?" He nodded, eyes fluttering closed. She kept going, up and down his body, even touching his underarms. She used the tip of her hair to run over his face, and she could have sworn that he blushed a little. "Still good?"

"Yeah, yeah." His voice was soft and sweet, and she thought that must be how he sounded as a boy. After a while, his breathing slowed to a soft rhythm. She kissed him gently, then laid down on the bed next to him. "No, don' go." It was one of the saddest sounds she had ever heard.

"Roll over here." He faced her on his side, his hair hiding one eye again. She got up close to him, running her fingers over his face, and pushing back his hair. "I've got you. I'm right here. Shhhhh. Go to sleep..." One arm snaked around his middle, stroking his back. She whispered sweet nothings until he relaxed, and only then did she allow herself to rest.

\-----------------------------------------  
"Ow, shit!" The sound of his shouting from somewhere downstairs woke her up, and she rolled over; the sun now blazing through the window. She reached out and checked her phone- a couple of hours left before picking up the kids. She laid back down and pulled the blanket over her head until she felt a finger run up the bottom of her foot. 

"What the hell?" She kicked out and strong hand grabbed her ankle.

"Don' you kick to hard now, you'll upset that plate. And I a'int burnen' the shit out'a my hand again makin' ya more." 

She pulled the cover down far enough to poke her eyes above the edge. A plate full of bacon and waffles lay next to her head. She grabbed a fist full of bacon and pulled the blanket back up. "Mine!" 

He laughed, deeply, a sound she had never heard before. "Oh my god woman, sometimes you are crazier than a shit house rat. It’s all your's." He leaned over, kissing her on the head through the blanket; despite the crunching. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Everything. Anything. Yours." She peaked back up at him over the blanket. He coughed and sniffed, scratching his beard. "Anyway, um, I'm gunna' shower while you eat, k?" 

"Ho-tay." He snorted a little at her, clearly talking with a mouth full of bacon, and walked away shaking his head. When he got out of the bathroom, she took her turn in the shower, then they took their time watching TV and drinking coffee until it was time to go. They ran to the grocery store, picked up the kids, stopped by the shop that Daryl worked at to pick up his new set of keys. And all the while, through jam packed checkout lines, over active kids, and having to deal with his boss on his day off, May could see Daryl smiling. Not obviously, and he would lift his hand to cover his mouth until he got it back under control, but she caught it all the same. They had a quiet day, and when the boys went to bed he told her he would be heading home too.

"I promised that I would open the shop for a while, prove to him I'm really gunna' show up and not take off on him this time." They stood outside, her on the porch and him on the ground; eye to eye. 

"I don't see why you can't stay." She annoyed herself, sounding whiny, but it came out that way just the same. He tucked her hair behind her ear. 

"Because if I stay, I'll make love ta ya again and I need my sleep." 

"Cuz' I'm irrisistable?" She pouted. 

"You know ya are ya god damn minx. It's bad enough, only havin' my arm around you when we sit on the couch, not bein' able to touch ya more."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Well its hard on me too! A hunk like you doesn't come along every day ya know."

His hands ran up her hips to rest on her waist. "I don't know how you ended up so crazy, but I thank god ya did." She rubbed the tip of her nose against his, until they fell into a long kiss. After a few minutes, he broke off the contact with a grumble. "Alright, now I've really got to go." 

She sighed. "Alright Sugar. You take care of yourself, alright?" 

"I will. And if you need anything, you let me know. Understand?" 

She smiled at him, wide and bright, and it felt like the sun had turned on just for him. "Understood. Good night baby." She whispered, giving him one last kiss on the forehead and turning away. 

"Goodnight." He whispered back, waiving at her shadow already passing through the door. He walked away, but watched the house for a little while from the woods; staring at her bedroom light from the darkness.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

MONDAY

Detective Allen called Daryl first thing on Monday, and by the end of the day they had the plan set up. Daryl would meet the Savage Sons at their bar for a buy, using some cash provided by the police. The cops would come in after the deal and make arrests; and both Merle and Daryl would have to testify. Daryl told her the details that night, as they sat on the porch swing, the boys asleep upstairs. 

"I don't like it, you going in all by yourself like that." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked out into the night. 

His arm wrapped tighter around her shoulder and he took a drink off of his beer. "S'cute, the way you worry after me, like I an't been deelin' with shit like this my whole life." 

She let her hand fall back to his knee where it had been before. "I know, just..." She sighed, picking at the scratchy fabric. "... you won't let me do anything and I..."

“Nuh-uh. You did you're part. The safe part. Now let me do mine." His voice had gone from jovial to a little stern in a heartbeat. 

"Huh. Am I still allowed to worry?" She was clearly perturbed. 

"You can be a smart ass or worry yourself into a fit if you want to. As long as you're in this house while I'm in that bar." 

"I will be, cross my heart." She reached up, tugging at his chin a little to get him to look at her. "Please be careful. I mean it. I want you back whole, with no chunks missing or brains lost." 

"No worries there, ain't got no brains ta loose." 

"Ha ha smart guy. But I mean it. I don't care if you have to kill every dude in there or run like bitch..."

"I ain't no bitch." 

"Please- just say you'll be careful. For me?" Her brows were tight, and at some point her hand had dropped to the front of his shirt, gripping it snugly. 

"Hey, come on now. It'll be fine." He pulled her head to rest on his chest. "I been to this place a million times. They ain't good dudes, but I know em' and how they are. Honestly, this ain't even the first time I got meth there, had to go there with Merle more than once to get his stuff."

"I guess that helps." She started yanking on a loose button that hung from his flannel. "You should let me fix that." 

"You don' gotta. I can tend to it."

"Might as well; I fixed a half dozen pairs of your socks the other day. I pulled them out of the dryer but didn't know where you wanted them, so their up on the dresser." He grunted, that little fiery feeling in his gut suddenly blazing again. He wanted to be the one to take care of her, but she always seemed to be the one caring for him. And she actually wanted to. That fact was still hitting him every now and then, like a revelation from god that just kept getting more real all day long. He buried his nose in her hair, no longer worried that she would pull away from his gentle little touches in horror. He had tried it out all night long, a kiss here or a caress there; and not once had she pulled away. She would smile or touch him back even; it was amazing, like suddenly finding out you could fly. His hart hammered in his chest, and although he was dead tired, he wanted nothing more in the world then to just sit here and hold her forever. He let out a long, deep sigh of contentment and she giggled a little. 

"You sound like a big ol' grizzly bear." 

"Oh, that so?" He put down his beer slowly, then quick as a flash he had his fingers dug into her sides, tickling her ribs. "Well you better watch out, bears are dangerous!" She giggled and kicked, trying desperately to grab his hands, but he was far faster than her. He grabbed her legs and scooped her up across his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to ignore how one of his hands rested on her inner thigh.

"Don't do that- I hate tickling!" 

"Bears don't tickle, we just play with our food." He licked his lips and kissed her, slow and deep, his fingers starting to dip under the leg of her shorts. 

She pulled back suddenly. "Wait, don't you have work in the morning?" 

"I do, but I'll survive. But let’s not be horsen' around much more OK?" 

She leaned over, whispering in his ear. "But now you've got me all hot Daryl." She popped a couple of his buttons while she spoke, dipping her hand inside his shirt. "Please, can I have you? Just a quickie?" 

He swallowed, his mouth feeling very dry all of a sudden. She played with the lobe of his ear with her teeth and lips, while her fingers toyed with his pecs. "For fucks sake woman, you can pull my heart outta’ my chest if you want ta’." He panted, fingers reaching up her thigh to her panty line.

"That's not the organ I had in mind right now sugar." She kissed him again, then stood up to take off her shorts and panties. "Stand up and switch places with me." He stood, one of his hands automatically going to semi hard erection, pushing it around in his pants to a more comfortable position. She sat low on the swing, and reached up to his belt, pulling him down to kiss her. Slowly getting the hint, he knelt between her legs. They kissed and felt at one another for a moment, before his fingers dipped between her bare thighs, seeing how wet she was. "I can't wait anymore Daryl, please, I need you inside me." Her voice was taunt and needy, and he suddenly felt incredibly thankful that he had hung the swing so low when he put it up. 

"I ain't gunna lie..." He was opening his belt and pulling his pants down to his knees. "I fuckin' love it when you beg me. Ain't nobody ever begged me for it before." 

"Well you must have been seeing some pretty stupid bitches because this..." she reached down, rubbing his length, "is a treasure. And you do amazing things with it. So please, pretty please, will you fuck me now?" 

He was chewing on his lips, fighting back a grin. "You really want it baby?"

She reached behind her, gripping at the wooden back rest. "Oh my god yes. I need you Daryl." Her legs spread wide and he was pretty sure that whimpering sound he heard actually came from his own mouth. "Please fuck me. My legs are shaking I need you so bad." 

He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out a brand new rubber. He rolled it down himself slowly, enjoying the view of his girl before him; trembling legs, wet lips, and messy hair. "It’s alright sweetheart, I'ma do you real good." One rough hand caressed her thigh, the other rubbed the tip of his shaft along her lips. She realized that the deep, rich tenor of his sex voice was not unlike the one he used when talking to his motorcycle. Then nothing else mattered but his body, as he used the swing to push her onto his cock, again and again. She relished the sensation for a moment, before reaching out for her clit. She rubbed to the rhythm of his thrusts, but also to sight of his arm muscles working the swing, and the sound of his panting as he tried not to come. When she climaxed, she couldn't hold back her cries. His hand reached up over her mouth to dampen it, and she kept a rough grip on his wrist until she finished. When she looked up her gave her a little nod as if to ask if she was done, and she nodded back. His arms wrapped around her waist and she landed softly on the porch, his erection still inside her. He made a few short thrusts, then came, burying his face in the top of her hair to muffle his noises. She caressed the back of his neck as they both came down from the moment, their breath evening out and bodies relaxing. 

"Thank fuckin' god you come so quick, I don't think I coulda' held out for another minute." He laid on her, enjoying the feel of her tiny body crushed beneath him. 

"Well, if we play a little first that gets me going. And you played with me all night long, it was driving me insane." 

"Really?" He pushed up on his forearms, not bothering to hide his grin. 

"Yeah really. It was the worst when you kept playing with my hair when we were watching TV. God, I just wanted to rip your clothes off by that point." She dragged her nails softly across his shoulders, hitting her statement home. 

"U'm sorry, didn' mean to wind ya’ up sa’ much." He buried his face in her neck, his breath hot on her skin. 

"Bullshit. You love that you can get me so hot and bothered."

"Maybe." His voice got throaty again and she shivered, despite the humid evening. 

He sat up, pulling her to the sitting position with him. "Come on, let’s get you in in bed."

"Are you staying the night?" She pulled on her shorts, as he turned away to pull off the rubber and pull up his pants. 

"I suppose, if you ain't had yur fill of me yet." He bundled the rubber and wrapper up in his old shop rag, shoving it in his pocket to dispose of later. 

She got up and walked to the door, holding out one hand. "I'll never have my fill of you sugar. Now come on, I want to cuddle before you roll over and fall asleep." 

He took her hand, walking into the house. "No promises sweetheart, I'm beat."

But she knew, no matter what he said now, that they would get into that bed and his hands would find her; almost of their own accord, greedy for affection. They would touch each other not only because she wanted it, but because he needed it; the kissing, caressing, stroking, that made him shiver in her arms. Reassurance, over and over again, that she wanted him. That he was enough, that he was deserving. She just hoped it was enough to keep him from taking any stupid risks when he walked into that bar, just a short 24 hours in the future. 

TUESDAY

There's a certain smell that comes with rough, deep country bars; old chaw spit, stale beer, and sweat. When you walk in, there's a texture to the mood of the place; often times one of family and deep familiarity. But others hum with something else, a palpital danger, and an unease will fall on the outsider that will push them out, without a single word or motion from any of the inhabitants. Jake's bar was one of the later. Daryl likened the feeling to ants crawling over his body, the eyes on him were so focused and intense. 

"I tol' ya Daryl, I can't sell that much product without Bleeker or LLoyd beein' here an I don' know where their at." Daryl sat across from a burly, bull of a man, hunched over a bottle of cheap beer. 

"Now you listen here Rawley, I ain't playen' around. It took me a whole lotta' hustlin' ta get this much cash together. And if I don't get product back ta my guy then he's gunna' go back to his regular supplier. You got an opportunity ta’ get in with a new dealer and hopefully Bleeker's gunna let me skip nocken' over the drug store. Everybody wins, yeah?" Daryl was sweating bullets. The situation kept going sideways on him. He had already been tasked by the police to incriminate as many people as possible, then the two most important members were missing, and now he was left to deal with the guy who usually just did the dirty work. 

"Yeah, but..."

"Ain't you ever wanted to be more than just the muscle? Come on man, you make a move like this then Bleeker gets ta see ya as more than just some asshole, right? Maybe even give ya a cut of the profits."

"My old ladys been riden' me ta take more jobs." He finished off his beer. "Alright, let’s do it. I'll go in the back an'..." 

"Man, you're the one in charge right now, just send Max and Hader. They ain't dooin' nuthin' cept' loose'n at pool right now any ways." 

"Yeah, huh? Hey you guys..." The rest of the night went off without a hitch. Twenty minutes later the cops swarmed in, making twenty-two arrests; mostly on outstanding warrants, drug trafficking, and illegal weapons. But the head of the gang, and his right hand man, were nowhere to be found. 

Detective Allen stopped Daryl as he was heading away from the scene. "Keep an eye out over the next few days, alright? I have every confidence that we'll catch the two of them, but I sure as hell don't know when. And until we do..."

"Yeah I know. Got a big fuckin' target on my back." He got on his bike, heading home. He felt skittish, to say the least, and when he saw a paper bag on the steps of his trailer that night, he felt sure that it wasn't good. He opened it slowly, away from the house and trees, in case it was an incendiary device. Inside was a note from May, sitting on top of a large Tupperware container. 

Daryl,  
Text me right now, as soon as you get this note and tell me if you are alive or dead. I'll still be awake. Your dinner is inside, if you're still alive. You better be alive damn it. -May

He grinned, walking back up into the trailer, and heading inside. He put down his things, then sat down to eat and text her back. 

-Still alive. You ain’t rid a me yet.

-Are you home?

-Yeah

-In one piece?

-Yeah im ok. Ya worry to much.

-Well if there was anything worth worrying about this is it. Did it go alright?

-Two of them guys’ r missing but Allen will find them. so calm down. 

-Nope, calm is not really what I'm feeling about that situation. 

-Nothing we can do about it baby

\- I know. Just don't know what I would do if anything happened to you.

-You'd be ok. Girl like yous smart, pretty, you'd bounce back. 

-Thank you for the compliment, but no, I wouldn't just 'bounce back'

-Why not? Theres plenty a dudes out there who would love to have a girl like you

-Because there's only one of you. I don't care about any other dude on the planet. I JUST WANT YOU. 

-Oh

-So can you focus on keeping the only man, in the whole world, that I want to spend my life with, ALIVE? 

-Please dont worry about me sweetheart, ive lived through worse, ill live through this 

-You promise? 

-I promise

-I miss you 

-You know id be there with you if I didnt need to sleep

-You dont think you would sleep here? ;)

-Dont be all coy with me sweethart, you know i cant keep my hands off ya

-Really?

-Stop it. You got a face like a doll, a curvy body, and a smart ass mouth you know that theres my kryptonite

-Your'e so sweet

-Dont let it get around, i have a rep to uphold as a Dixon

-Ill stop texting and let you go to sleep.

-You know id rather be in bed with ya then here, right?

-I know. Go to sleep sugar, I'll see you tomorrow. 

-Goodnight baby

-Goodnight tiger

He took a few more bites before stripping down and falling into bed. He thought about her for a while, not falling asleep until he pretended that she was beside him, just out of reach.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

WEDNESDAY 

It was nine p.m. and Daryl felt like hell. After putting in a twelve-hour shift, the cops had called him down to ID suspects, make another statement and answer question after question. All he wanted was to shower and head over to May's house, to curl up with his girl on the couch and watch TV. He fiddled with his keys, and realized a moment too late that they hadn't moved the tumbler on the lock. As the door popped open, he heard the click of a hammer being pulled back on a pistol. 

"Well hello Daryl. Have a good day at work?" The tone was light and mocking, and terrifyingly familiar.

"What the fuck you want Lloyd?" 

"Flesh..." He pulled out each letter with a whisper, causing Daryl's skin to crawl. Before Lloyd could utter another word, Daryl threw himself backward out the doorway, hearing a shot ring out from the dark inside. Quickly, he rolled underneath the wooden stairs, waiting for the other man to follow. 

"Here I come little pig! I'm gunna get cha! I'm gunna get cha!" As soon as his foot fall hit the second step, Daryl grabbed his ankle, causing him to hit the ground heavy. Filling with adrenaline, Daryl pounced on the other man like a hawk. He banged Lloyd's head into a sharp rock, while struggling to keep the gun pointed away. Here, in the moonlight, he could see Lloyd more clearly; unshaven, reddened eyes, spitting with rage, and the blood pouring from his head only intensifying the look of madness painted all over him. He would not go down without a fight. They struggled mightily, one over the other, then back again; until Daryl finally got him into a choke hold, causing him to pass out. The whole interaction took only minutes, but felt like hours. He took no time in getting the man bound and calling the police. 

But standing there in the dark, he felt the twinge. That instinct, from years of being out in the wild, that something, very close to him, was not right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but then again, he was almost to the point of total exhaustion. 'What is it? What the fuck am I missing?' Suddenly he felt it- like a big bell in his chest- May. There had to be something wrong on the farm. He ran through the woods, unstoppable by the dark and the twisting branches. When the house came into sight he paused. It seemed fine. The lights were on downstairs, off upstairs, and there were no strange vehicles parked around. The woods sung with crickets and owls, and the sky was clear. But still, in the tranquility of the evening, something was wrong. He approached the front door and knocked. May answered quickly, cracking the door open just far enough to poke her face out.

"Hay! You're home late, the cops sure took their time with you huh?" She sounded fine. There were no strange noises in the house. But there was something off, something wrong.

"You guys ok? I just..."

"Of course we are! Jesus you are a mess! Why don't you head back to your place and clean up, then come back here, ok?"

He looked down at himself, covered in motor oil, dirt and blood. "Yeah, yeah. I'll, uh, yeah. Be right back." He turned to walk away when she called out to him. 

"Just a reminder, bring back that book I lent you- the one on Albaqueerie, alright?" 

He looked back and nodded at her. "Sure thing. Don't worry alright?" 

"I never do!" And with that, she closed the door, never dropping her eye contact. He knew it then, that she wasn't alone. It was her safe word that she had used, confirming what his gut instinct had already told him. He didn't know what he would find inside; how many men, what weapons they had, what they had already done to his girl... He pushed his fears down deep, focusing on the task at hand. The cops were still a good twenty to thirty minutes out, and he'd be damned if he was leaving her alone in there another second. He went around back, looking through the lower panel of the screen door. There he could see Bleeker, sitting down at the kitchen table, holding May on his lap, arm around her waist. Their voices were soft from so far away, but he could still make them out. 

"That was a real good show you put on there honey. You listened real good. Now as soon as my associate gets Daryl under control, then he'll get him back here and we have a little party. You and me and Lloyd can have some fun and Daryl gets to watch."

"Then what?" She snarled through clenched teeth. "You kill us both?" 

"No, no, no. You get to live. You got you're self-someone who's sweet on you, or else I'd keep you myself." He slowly stroked her back and smelled her hair. She struggled to push him off, but he grabbed a fist full of her hair, yanking her head back. "Don't you fucking pull away from me you arrogant bitch. You may have hidden those kids of yours somewhere, but you better believe I'll find em'. Just remember, I'm only under obligation to keep you alive- not your brats."

So the kids were safe, somewhere, for now. He started back around the house, planning his next move, when he heard a little voice coming from the woods. "Pssst! Daryl! Over here!" He recognized the voice as Alfie's, and followed it to the dense shrubs near the back of the house. 

"Daryl! You should have seen it!" It was Hap, overly excited as always. Alfie quickly covered the younger boy's mouth with his hand and addressed Daryl.

"Is it safe yet?"

"Naw, yur moms in there with a real bad guy. Ya need to tell me what happened."

"He came to the front door first, then tried the back. I think that's where he busted in. Mama snuck us out the bathroom window and told us to hide in the woods. She said not to come out unless it was for you, or her, or we saw police lights."

"That's good. I want you boys ta stay here till we get this thing sorted out, alright?" The boy nodded, his face sober. Daryl felt an ache, deep from the recesses of his mind, of sorrow; that they would have this trauma so young. He grabbed them, suddenly, into a hug. It lasted only a moment, then he let them go just as quickly, heading back to the rear porch. 

Gingerly he reached for the screen door. It squeaked when opened, so he used his pocket knife to gently slice through the screening at the bottom, crawling through. Every loose wooden plank, rusty nail, and abandoned toy was an opportunity for an unwelcome sound. He took every movement with an aching precision, born of decades of walking through a landmine of broken glass in his childhood home and the agility of a seasoned hunter. It also helped that he knew the house through and through. As he used the outdoor fridge for cover, he inspected the back door. Sure enough, the latch hung loosely, a boot print on the frame where he would have kicked it in. He took a quick look inside to survey if anything had changed. The two of them still sat at the dining table, backs to the kitchen. Gingerly, he pulled the door open, pocket knife in hand. Bleeker didn't have any visible weapons, but his hand was still on May's waist. 

He approached them, silently, the fluidity of his motion belaying none of aches that wracked his body. When he got with in arms reach, he shoved her hard, sending her a good two feet away. "Run! Now!" She looked shocked, but took no time in scrambling up and fleeing for the front door. Daryl watched her move a beat too long, missing the sight of Bleeker's fist heading straight for his mid-section. He dropped like a sack of bricks, all the breath knocked out of him. 

"You stupid fucking redneck! Now look what you've done!" Bleeker was seething as he watched her head out the door. He trotted after her, Daryl watching helplessly. Slowly he pulled himself off the floor, across the room, and out the front door. Bleeker was chasing May across the large field to the side of the house, the very one he had struggled to clear of blackberry bushes. 

"Bleeker!" He shouted across the yard, giving May a chance to get further away. But she didn't. She ran straight at him, and as his head was turned toward Daryl, her leg swung up, getting a sold kick to his genitals. He fell to his knees, but was still able to grab her ankle as she started back towards the house, causing her to also fall. 

"I am going to gut you like a deer ya stupid cunt!" Bleeker started to pull up his pants leg, and May started fighting even harder to pull away. 

"Leave her alone!" Daryl was arching towards them, deathly afraid, and pretty convinced, that there must be a gun or knife in Bleeker's boot. He threw himself at the man, breaking Bleeker's grip on her ankle. Savagely they wrestled; punching, gouging, snarling. But Daryl was the one who was far more tired, and Bleeker straddled him in moments. His fingers wrapped around Daryl's throat and spots started to form in his vision. 

He got down close into Daryl's face, and he could smell the chew on his breath. "I'm gunna' choke you out. Then, when you're tied up, my associate and myself are going to take turns fucking your girl. And when we're done, we're going to cut you into pieces until your'e dead and sell and her kids for a whole fuck load of cash. And there ain't nothing you can do about it asshole." His head was spinning and the nausea was getting worse; he was going out. Vaguely, he saw a look of surprise pass on Bleeker's face, before the other man's head snapped back by the hair. There was May, holding a sharp looking knife. Quick as a flash, she brought it up and through Bleeker's throat, severing the artery, causing a massive spray of blood. Instantly he let go of Daryl and reached for his ruined throat. Daryl choked and gasped, the air filling him again. 

She stood over the gagging biker, the boot knife poised above him, slick with his own blood. "Carotid artery motherfucker." Somehow, through the pain of his own death he managed a growl at her, flipping her the bird. She spit in his face. "I'll see you in hell you son of a bitch. An I'll fuck you up there too." He finally stilled and she walked away, tossing the knife to the side. 

Daryl stood, slowly, wobbling like a new born calf. She supported him, both of them shuffling back towards the house. They sat on the steps, and he hunched over his knees, still light headed. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah. Just need a minute." His voice was rough and soft, but she believed him. 

"I'm gunna call the cops and then get the kids, alright?" She ran her hand up and down his back, and leaned her forehead on his shoulder. He nodded, and she let him go, heading inside. 

The rest of the night was a mess of police, paramedics, and even a few neighbors who were unused to so much activity up their mountain. The paramedics tried to take Daryl in, but after he almost threw a punch at one of them they let it slide. The whole family were questioned, poked, prodded, and finally left alone around midnight. The boys didn't fall asleep easily, so when they did, Daryl and May stood silently across from one another in the hall, just breathing and trying not to fall over. 

"You're not going to work tomorrow are you?" She whispered to him, after a long minute of silence. 

"Naw. Already called my boss while the cops were there so's they could back up my story." He shifted on his feet and she watched him wince and grip his side where he got punched. 

"Me either. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up." She held out her hand, and he took it, heading towards the bedroom. She pulled him into the bathroom, angling him to sit on the toilet. He rested his back against the tank as she unlaced his boots and pulled them off with his socks. He stank something awful, but she didn't show it on her face, just threw the nasty boots off to the side and stood to unzip his coveralls. They were stiff with blood and she had to work the zipper up and down several times to get it all the way down. 

She stood back to look at him. His eyes were closed, hair loose and greasy around his face. Large bruises were forming around his neck, and she knew there would be more around his torso. Every inch of him was caked with filth. 

"Daryl? Are you awake?" He made a little grumbling noise from deep in his ruptured throat. "I'm going to turn on the shower, can you strip for me?" He smiled, and she let out a little chuckle. 

By the time the water warmed up he was naked, leaning against the wall like he was sleeping. "Can't I just sleep? Most of the dirty stuff was on my clothes ya know." 

"Oh no ya don't mister. Not unless you wanna sleep buck naked on the porch you don't." 

"Will you come in with me?" He was peeking up at her from his down turned eyes. 

"Yeah baby, of course." He climbed in as she undressed, and made a deep moan when the water hit his body. She stepped in behind him, picked up the soap and started washing his back. Suddenly he whipped around, grabbing the soap and throwing it the floor. 

"What the...?" Then she said no more, as his arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his broken chest. Her hands slipped up his narrow hips as far as she could reach, and they stood there for several minutes, holding each other. After a while he made a noise, which sounded suspiciously like a small sob, before shaking his head and taking a deep breath. His hands moved up to her face, gripping her jaw line to look up at him.

"Now you need ta’ tell me, an ya’ need ta’ be truthful- did he hurt you?" 

"No baby, I'm fine. Other then get a little grabby, he didn't do anything to me. I'm fine." He squinted at her, but let his grip soften and drop to her arms. "Can we wash now? Then go to bed?" He nodded, giving her the slightest peck on the lips. She reached down and grabbed the soap as he turned around to reach for his shampoo. She lathered his shoulders and back as he washed and rinsed his hair. Her fingers kneaded into the tight, abused muscles, but only feathered over the purpling bruises and scrapes. When he turned to rinse, she worked his chest and arms as he let the water run through his hair. 

"God damn it woman, the things you do with your hands." 

She let out a soft laugh. "You want me to stop?"

"Oh fuck no. But I don't think I can stand up for much longer."

She handed him the bar of soap and reached for her shampoo. "Why don't you finish up while I wash my hair, then go lay down; OK?" He gave her his shaky nod and let her stand under the water long enough to get her hair wet. It took him less than a minute to finish showering, and then left her alone.

When she got out, he was asleep on top of the covers; hair tousled, body still mostly wet, towel half covering his lap, and covered in bruises and scratches. She pulled on some panties and a nightgown before climbing under the covers on the other side of the bed. Daryl, finally roused again, tossed the wet towel across the room and pulled the blanket up over himself. He settled down on his side and reached out for her, pulling her roughly into his chest. 

"Ain't nobody gunna fuckin' touch you like that again. You hear me?" He still sounded angry, but she understood the fear beneath it. 

"No, nobody’s gunna take me from you. I'm yours baby, nobody else's." 

"That's right. Mine." His lips were pressed against the top of her head and she could feel him chewing on them. 

"You took so many risks with your own hide tonight, and you saved me. So thank you honey."

"I didn't do all that much, yur’ the one who killed the dude."

He felt her fingers dig into his sides and a shiver run through her. "I don't want to talk about that right now. Maybe ever." 

He dug his grip into her hair. "It'll never happen again. I mean it." She wasn't sure if he meant the violence or the topic, but she was too tired to care. They both quickly fell asleep, their grasp on one another unbroken. 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
Three months later  
The whole thing felt weird and kind of, well, wrong. Daryl wiped his nose, pulled at his cuticles, and rubbed his beard over and over. Then turned and addressed May. "You sure? This is OK?"  
"Yes baby, its fine. I'm positive. Just pull it already, you're killing me."  
He sat up slowly, gently grasping the tasseled cord, pulling it ever so softly. Then he laid back down, arms crossed and face stony. She turned to him from the side she lay on. "Quit worrying about it so much. You're not forcing anyone here to do anything they don't want to do, OK?"  
"Don't make me feel much better."  
She rolled over, holding a bottle of lotion out to him. "You'll feel even worse if you don't put on some of this."  
"I ain't some kid, I told you I don' need it."  
She giggled a little, enjoying his mortification. "It'll burn like the dickens..." she began, but was interrupted by a woman in a uniform appearing at the cabana opening.  
"Mr. Dixon, Ms. Atwell. How may I be of service?"  
May poked her elbow into Daryl's arm and whispered at him; "Go on."  
He cleared his throat, still sounding a little angry. "I wanna sixer of beer and cheese burger."  
May piped up, still grinning a little. "Budweiser and rare burger. Lots of fries on the side please."  
"Of course Ma'm right away." The woman left, revealing the expanse of white sand and blue sea again, the boys playing on the water's edge.  
"Don't care what ya say, it's weird haven' servants."  
"Sugar, we are only at this resort for a week, then we will be back in the safe arms of the Georgia mountains. Try and enjoy it."  
"Just lay here and get waited on?"  
"You should go fishing with that guy we met on the plane, he seemed nice."  
"He's a doctor."  
"He's a dentist with a Cabelas cap and four daughters under twelve years old. I'm pretty sure he would claw his own eyes out for a chance to go fishing for a whole day with..." Her phone chimed, and she looked down at the text message. "It's Detective Allen. They're finally going to trial against Alderwood."  
"Took em' fuckin' long enough."  
"I know. But they had to get through all those bikers, flipping on each other left and right. Lloyd's just lucky he flipped on Alderwood before he got flipped on himself. That asshole would have been prime for the death penalty otherwise."  
Daryl's hand reached out to her thigh, squeezing it gently. "At least he ain't ever gettin' out. I doubt Alderwood will see the light of day again either."  
"Probably not. Not after giving those two guys a heads up on the raid, conspiring with them to kidnap me, then murder you. Not to mention probably trying to sell my kids on the internet." His fingers dug a little deeper into her muscle at the thought, and she scooted closer to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. His eyes closed and his posture softened and he relaxed for a few minutes in her arms.  
"Mr. Dixon, I have your order." He shot up like a bolt, pulling his hands away from her body. "Shall I leave it here on the edge of the lounge?"  
"Yes, that will be fine, thank you." May interjected for him. The woman laid out a large trey, then placed a cooler on the floor with in arms reach.  
"Will that be all?"  
"Yes."  
"And your room number?"  
"14."  
"Thank you, have a pleasant day."  
Daryl's arms had crossed again and he sounded completely put out. "What else they gunna do, wipe my ass for me?"  
"I'm sure that can be arranged, but it's gunna cost extra." She tickled him a little under one arm until he smiled. "Now eat your food and drink too much beer. Enjoy yourself. That's an order."  
He started poking at the little jars of ketchup and mayonnaise on the trey. "Yes Ma'm."  
He chucked to himself, looking out over the ocean. The children were playing, there was a soft breeze blowing into the tent, and May was rubbing his lower back, just below his t-shirt. He closed his eyes and said a prayer, like he hadn't done since he was a child, that if this was the dream, that he would never, ever, wake up.


End file.
